


Girl Sentinel and the Guide Dogs of Destiny

by Tribi



Category: Teen Wolf (TV), The Sentinel
Genre: Female Stiles Stilinski, Genderbending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-26
Updated: 2013-07-26
Packaged: 2017-12-21 11:22:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 50,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/899711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tribi/pseuds/Tribi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles develops super senses (sentinel abilities) and gets two guides to help her.  Except sometimes they're more like loaded guns pointing at each other and she's the one in the middle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Abomination

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mklutz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mklutz/gifts).



Derek was a long way from high school.  Well, not literally, because literally he was actually in his old high school right now, but he was a good few years from his last physics class.  And he both wished he could remember more but also that he remembered less because right now his brain was just circling and circling around some kind of bizarre final exam question; “object A weighs 110 pounds, object B weighs 190 pounds and is completely paralyzed, how long can object A hold up object B in eight feet of water before object C, a giant lizard creature armed with a paralytic goo, succeeds in killing everyone?”

“Stop thinking so much Derek, your heavy thoughts are weighing us down,” panted Stiles as she paddled madly trying to keep his head above water and, with less success, her own head up too.

“Save your breath, Stiles, please.”  Derek was just straight up begging her, he had started begging her almost immediately, to leave him, to save herself; he only stopped because she had some strange compulsion to argue back with him about how she wouldn’t and he couldn’t bear to tire her out more with arguing.  Instead he tried being quiet, but she was right, it had led to some heavy thoughts.  Their situation wasn’t very conducive to anything else though.

They lapsed into silence again.  The silence was more troubling for Stiles, on top of all the other things she was freaking out about: the giant lizard, how tired her arms were getting, the cramp in her right calf, how sad her dad would be; on top of all that every time she was quiet and tried to concentrate on something else she felt like she was tripping out.  If she tried to concentrate on Erica, the blonde body crumpled at the bottom of a far wall, she would swear that she could hear Erica’s heartbeat –slow and steady and almost infinitesimally getting stronger.

If she concentrated on the pool, on the cold water sloshing around and up her nose then the smell of chlorine made her head swim and her eyes burn.  It was a thousand times worse than she had ever noticed chlorine smelling before.

And then there was Derek, she was pretty sure that some of the water dripping down his face was warmer and saltier than any pool water; she dunked his face accidentally on purpose every now and then just to save his pride.  His heart was thundering under her hand, he was so agitated and trying so hard to heal the paralysis.  She shifted her hand so that her palm was flat over his chest and she could imagine the different chambers and valves fluttering and pumping.  AP bio had never seemed so superfluous before, she got this; she could see it through her fingertips like she had never seen anything before.

Was this clarity a gift of some sort for killing herself so nobly?  So stupidly?  Do all Darwin winners get an actual prize right before their death?  She worked on what sort of stupid comment she could make about her imminent Darwin prize and then wondered if Derek knew what they were.

Her attention skittered away again as the lizard beast paused in its circling, one foot lifted and looking suddenly unsure.  Stiles and Derek froze too, which well, Derek was already paralyzed so he was already pretty frozen but he stopped whatever bummer thoughts he was entertaining and started straining every sense to see what had freaked out the lizard.  Stiles paused in her treading/flailing and opened her mouth which was a bad combination.  She bobbed back up coughing and looked at the lizard, her vision tunneled in on the lizard, on the lizard’s eye, on the reflection of the lizard’s eye, on a tiny little Scott reflected in the lizard’s eye and getting bigger and bigger.  And then she couldn’t see anymore because she was sliding under the water, and Derek was calling her, until he couldn’t anymore because she was pulling him down with her.

 

Stiles’ next thought was ‘recovery position, my old friend.’  Scott was crouched over her and Derek was lying on his back next to her; glass was falling from the skylights over the pool and raining down into the water below.  ‘That’s going to be a bitch for someone to clean,’ she thought.  ‘I wonder who the hell designed it like that?’, although to be fair her mind replied, ‘who really plans for a giant lizard attack?’

Some of that was probably out loud she mused because Scott was suddenly in her face with wide stricken eyes but she felt like the water was closing over her head again and she slid down into the quiet depths.

“Stiles,” Scott was moaning, more than half wolfed out. 

Derek gave himself a moment to listen to her slow and steady heartbeat before he mustered whatever alpha authority he had over Scott.  “Scott, someone’s going to come with that noise.  Can you get us out of here?”

Scott nodded but didn’t move.

“Scott, can you carry Stiles to her Jeep?”  Little words, Derek reminded himself.

“The Jeep was impounded,” Scott reminded him, even as he was scooping Stiles up and holding her close so that her breath ghosted across his neck where he could feel it.  “Should, should I put her in the Camaro?”

“Yeah, yeah that’s good.  The keys are in my pocket,” replied Derek and then put up with the indignity of Scott reaching in his front pocket and digging around for them.

 

Scott was back in less than a minute and he threw Derek over his shoulder before running him to his car and dropping him in the driver’s seat next to where Stiles was sprawled.  Another minute and he was laying Erica out in the back and then pausing next to Derek’s door.

“Is the feeling coming back?  Stiles said she was paralyzed for half an hour so I figured with your werewolf healing you should be better soon right?”

It didn’t seem like the time or the place to discuss the finer points of cutaneous versus subcutaneous poisoning methods, and anyway he was feeling more in his arms and legs so he just grunted at Scott.

Scott gave Stiles, paler and quieter than ever Stiles, another pathetic look and whimpered, “I’m supposed to pick my mom up in five minutes.  I, I’m literally driving to the hospital now, should I take her?  She’s human and she’s so pale.”  He actually reached across Derek’s face so he could touch a cool wet cheek.

Derek managed to turn his head to Stiles, “her heartbeat is steady.  I’ll take her home and get her dried off and in bed.  I’ll stay with her until her dad comes home at least and make sure she’s okay.”

“Will you call me?” Scott asked with big sad eyes.  Derek rolled his own and said yes.  Scott started to walk away and then turned back, “oh hey, I hope Erica is okay too.”

Derek growled and Scott managed to chuckle a little as he ran to his mom’s car, now with two minutes to go pick her up.

 

Derek sat there in his car with his wet clothes slowly drying on him until he could grip the key enough to turn it.  He drove slowly and safely to Stiles’ street and then turned around to check on Erica.  She was still out so he carefully got out of the car feeling stronger with each step and pulled Stiles out and into his arms. 

Her skin was like ice against him so once they got inside (the sheriff was out of course) he carried her upstairs to the bathroom.  Shower or bath he asked himself on the walk and decided on shower, not too keen on anything it was remotely possible to drown in for a while. 

Cool and clinical that was his mantra as he stood under the warm water with a mostly naked Stiles in his arms, turning to rinse all of the chlorine off of her and take the chill out of her skin.  When she was pink again he turned off the tap and toweled her dry, using the towel to preserve her modesty as he stripped off the rest of her wet clothes and then carried her to her bedroom. 

It was a relief to get her all tucked in before the sheriff came home, it was a relief but also sad thought Derek as he picked up her laundry basket and stopped in the bathroom to gather her wet clothes and then hide them all in the washing machine.  He was just figuring out how to switch it on when he heard Erica quietly calling his name.

She met him on the back steps casually checking her messages and not looking like she wanted to hug Derek, not at all.  Derek put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed, like she was a good lieutenant bravely injured in the line of fire and it was okay for her to go home now.  He was both pleased and horrified by how effectively the message went through and how she relaxed beneath his hand.

“Stiles is still unconscious,” he told her, “so I’m going to hang around until her dad comes home.  Are you okay to get home?”

Erica slipped her phone into her pocket and nodded.  “Tell her I hope she feels better.  I guess I missed a lot but it sounds like she did good keeping you alive.”

Part of Derek wanted to reply that Stiles had been incredible but a very short time ago Erica had been a very insecure girl and the bite didn’t actually cure things like that so he just nodded.  Erica got up and was all the way to the fence before she looked back and smirked, “maybe you can even tell her I’m sorry for breaking her Jeep, and her head on her Jeep, …or not.”  Then she flicked her hair back and leaped over the fence. 

Derek growled on Stiles’ behalf, or maybe his own.  Whatever, he decided and went back to her bedside.   A little self-conscious sniffing led him to the lump on the side of her head; the whine that followed finding it was even more embarrassing.  He was a full grown alpha and she was a skinny little teenager, why did she keep leaping into danger for him?

He brushed her bangs back and remembered the time he had smashed her head against her Jeep steering wheel.  Seriously, every member of his pack –and Scott, had hurt her or come really close to hurting her and she was still here, still trying to guard them all.  What the heck drove her he wondered?

The night wore on and Derek found himself brushing those bangs back more and more as they stuck to Stiles’ now sweaty forehead.  Her slow and steady breathing got slower and less steady too as a wheezing sound started up, and still the sheriff wasn’t home.

When she started raving about how the sheets were too scratchy and how the noises in the mostly silent (except for her really) house were too loud he picked up the phone next to her bed and dialed 911 with her fingers.  He held the phone next to her mouth and let the dispatcher listen to her rave for a while, when he heard the call go out for her address in the background he let the phone drop to the floor and crawled out to the roof.

He should have been long gone by the time the sheriff burst in and the ambulance came screaming up the street but he couldn’t help but watch through the window until everything was done and the door to her room was thoroughly banged by the gurney that they had dragged through it.  ‘Creeperwolf,’ he chided himself and then went to call Scott with the bad news.


	2. Frenemy

Stiles was almost the first person to be admitted to the psychiatric care ward for a simple case of pneumonia.  Instead they somehow decided to discharge her and sent her home, still mostly unconscious, under Mrs. McCall’s care with an emergency oxygen tank and an IV pole jammed in the back of the car.

Stiles had woken up in the ER moaning that it smelled so bad she was going to puke, any food was too horrible to eat, IV needles hurt more than anything in the history of ever and if they tried to talk her down from these fears she ended up in a panic attack, which with a case of pneumonia led to serious breathing issues and usually another trip to unconsciousville.  And then she would wake up moaning again. 

It happened seven times in half a day and when Mrs. McCall realized they were talking about sedating Stiles into a coma (more or less) she got her discharged.  It wasn’t that long ago that Stiles’ mother had died in this hospital and nobody put it past Stiles to work up a phobia about it. 

Scott didn’t buy the phobia theory, way too much weird shit had been going on for it to be something as simple as that.  By the time they were all rolling back to Stiles’ house he had exchanged 247 text messages with Derek, many of which were more than one word long, but Derek had no idea either.  Everyone was at a loss but the sheriff was especially bad.  “She didn’t even have a cough,” he insisted again, “not even a sniffle.”  Scott nodded quietly to back him up, it was true.

 

The three of them, Sheriff Stilinski, Mrs. McCall and Scott were really too wiped out to have the responsibility of Stiles so they set her up in her own bed and collapsed to nap as close to her as they could get.  It was almost another day before the sheriff backed off enough for Derek to get in again.

Stiles had woken up pale and unsteady but lucid so she sent her dad out to go work for a few hours, promising to nap until lunch and then eat whatever he brought her.

She listened to him grumble his way downstairs and pull out of the driveway and wasn’t startled at all when Derek slid in the window.

“Did you scratch me?” she demanded instantly.  “Is that why I’m like this now?”

Derek shook his head and crept to her side with his head bowed.  “No, I didn’t.  I checked when I brought you home.  I, I had to get you out of the wet clothes and there were no scratches.”

She bitched and squawked enough about him taking off her clothes that he was instantly glad he hadn’t mentioned the shower. The righteous indignation seemed to sap the strength right from her so he clumsily held up a nearby glass of something with a bendy straw.  It was some sort of electrolyte drink and clearly she needed the vitamin thingys it had.

She frowned at the straw and then took a tentative sip, after one second she was backing away from it, looking green.  “I can’t,” she gasped, “it tastes awful.  It’s like the floor of a chemical factory, I don’t even…”

Derek sniffed the glass and flinched himself.  “You’re right,” he agreed, “that smells nasty.”  He stretched to put the offensive liquid as far away as he could reach and turned back to see tears pouring down Stiles’ face.  He only looked at her but she started blubbering.

“Everything tastes horrible and smells horrible and I don’t know what’s happening or what I’m going to do.”

Derek was secretly proud of himself that he didn’t even pause as he kicked off his shoes and climbed up next to Stiles to wrap his arms around her and pull her wet snotty face down to his shoulder.  It felt good to finally be able to do something nice for her while she was conscious so he wriggled around until she was half on top of him and then rubbed her back a little.  He could feel the bumps of all her vertebrae and suddenly he was whispering to her and promising things.

“I’ll cook for you,” he started, “organic brown rice harvested by hand gently simmered in bottled spring water.”

“Glass or plastic?” mumbled Stiles and he leaned back to give her a curious face.  “If it’s in a plastic container the BPA’s might leech out and make it taste funny.”

“Definitely glass then,” Derek promised.  Stiles was gathered under his arm, curled on her side next to him and he thought he was doing a pretty good job of cheering her up until he felt the hot tears soaking through his shirt.  He scooted down until he could look into her eyes, her lashes all spiky and clumped, “shhh,” he soothed urgently, “don’t cry when you’re sick like this,” little coughs were already starting so he sat up and hauled her to his lap rubbing her back and desperately trying to stop the chain reaction he had already watched a few times from her roof.  He was lucky, it subsided easily.

Stiles cleared her throat, “so, so Paleo?”

Derek laughed and he sounded so relieved she didn’t even make a joke about how much it sounded like a bark.  “Maybe at first, but not for long, I’ll teach you how to control it, how to ignore it.  I think it will be easy for you actually, your brain is so quick, you just have to think about something else.  Eventually it will get so that your senses fade to normal unless you concentrate on them.”

“But why am I like this?  I’m really not a wolf?”

Derek took a deep scenting breath from the spot behind her ear, his eyes flashed red but he shook his head.  “You’re not.  When, when we got back from the pool I didn’t know if maybe I scratched you when I couldn’t feel myself but there were no marks.”

Stiles pulled back and glared at him, “and you checked everywhere?”

Derek curled his lip, flashing one long sharp canine.  Stiles flushed, embarrassed and unsure about why he was now growling at her.  “Stiles,” he rumbled/purred and she suddenly felt very much like a teenage girl in bed with an alpha male. 

“Stiles,” he repeated, “you almost died saving my life, you were ready to.  I couldn’t just drop you off alone in an empty house after that.  Not without making sure you were going to be okay,” his eyes darted to the medical supplies piled next to her bed.

“You saved me too,” Stiles finally said, picking up his hand and twining their fingers together.

“You aren’t keeping track are you Stilinski?”

 

The sheriff came home for lunch.  Derek had heard the patrol car coming and spoke softly to Stiles about the different ticks engines made and how she could learn to tell them apart before slipping out her window.

“Derek,” she whispered, “will you come back later?”  He smiled (wolflike) and nodded before dropping out of sight.

The sheriff had brought home soup from a local family restaurant that he liked.  Stiles held the Styrofoam container of clearly homemade chicken noodle soup for a minute trying to ignore the way the smell of plastic seemed to leech into the broth.  Finally she asked her dad if he could get her a bowl, the sheriff didn’t hesitate to jump up.  Actually he got one of their giant coffee cups so it had a handle to make holding it much easier.

“Thanks dad,” she said and felt kind of dumb for worrying about asking.  The sheriff paused to watch Stiles take her first sip and suddenly she felt like every atom of her being was focused on that spoon and the explosion that would soon hit her tongue.  Stiles put the spoon back down nervously.

The sheriff seemed a little crestfallen but then he took a taste of his own and started relaying all the messages from his coworkers and even the waitress who had packed up their soup, remembering the extra extra crackers he had slipped in his chest pocket.  When he finally made eye contact again passing over the tiny packet half of Stiles’ soup was gone.  His look was so pleased that she could picture him giving himself a medal, or maybe he was just relieved.

With a belly full of warm soup it was impossible not to nap after lunch.  The sheriff dawdled a little but he knew that Scott would be by after school and that was only a couple hours away now so eventually he left.

 

‘Scott’ filtered through Stiles head long before she awoke.  His smell filled her head and the sounds he made – just breathing, just being – they were as familiar as anything even if she had never been conscious of them before.

“Hey,” he said softly when he knew she was awake.  “So Derek says you have super senses too now but you’re not a werewolf.”

“Looks that way,” she confirmed, “pretty sure I don’t have that super healing thing or the super strength.”

“Weird,” said Scott, “you want me to ask Deaton about it?”

“Yeah,” said Stiles, “I haven’t even tried to Google it yet.  How weird is that?”

“Not very,” said Scott, “you’ve been pretty sick Sis.”

Even if he hadn’t called her that with her new senses Stiles would have heard that catch in his voice, seen the shimmer in his eyes,  “oh come here Bro,” said Stiles immediately, scooting in the bed to make room for Scott to sit next to her.

Once upon a time Scott and Stiles had been younger and even closer, trying to carry each other through divorce, the death of a parent, and the strange guilt that only children have when they want a brother or sister but know that it’s something their parents can’t give them and it’s horrible to even let them know you want it.  But, after one summer afternoon - and thanks to a boosted paring knife- that last problem at least was all taken care of.

“Stiles, when I pulled you out of that pool you were so still, so pale.  I should have taken you straight to the hospital.”  Scott confessed to her hair.

“No,” said Stiles immediately, “I would have had to lie to my dad about how I almost drowned and why I was there and, and at first Derek didn’t know if he had accidentally scratched me.  It was too risky.”

Scott just shuddered and pulled her closer, “None of that would have mattered if your life was in danger.”

“I know,” she murmured.

They cuddled for a while then put a dvd in Stiles’ laptop and pretended to do homework while taking turns reciting lines from _The Avengers_.  They were debating the next movie when Scott froze and looked up.  Stiles did too; she listened hard and tried to identify the little pings and squeaks of Mrs. McCall’s car.

The laptop was packed away and they were deeply engrossed in their homework when she came in the bedroom.

“Stiles honey,” she cried as she came in.  “You look so much better.”  Scott nodded his agreement.

“I heard from your dad that you ate all of your lunch,” continued Mrs. McCall.

“Woof woof,” said Stiles so Scott patted her head.

Mrs. McCall ignored them both, “I’m going to do a quick check-up and then I’m making dinner.  Scott, go get the bags I left in the car.”

Scott said, “yes Mom,” while Stiles said, “you don’t have to,” and then there was the front door banging shut and an icy stethoscope on her back.

“Did you have any trouble breathing or coughing today Stiles?”

Stiles paused and remembered Derek holding her and willing her to stop crying.  “A little one, like almost, but I calmed down pretty quickly.”

“Good girl,” said Melissa and Stiles only just stopped herself from woofing again.  “Well, you look a lot better today.  How about a trip to the bathroom and then I’ll go start some magic in the kitchen?”

 

Sleeping that night was hard.  Stiles was more tired than a person who spent most of (all of) the day in bed should be but she couldn’t get the pillows arranged.  Too flat and her chest filled and she felt like she was suffocating, too high and it didn’t support her back right.  She was trying too flat out again when Derek slid through her window, without a word he shook his head at her as if she was a silly silly puppy and then kicked his boots under her bed and climbed up on the mattress behind her.  In about three seconds he had Stiles arranged at the perfect angle between his legs and held close to his chest.

“Hey sourwolf,” Stiles wheezed and Derek practically whimpered sliding his hand under her t-shirt and spreading his fingers hot and wide against her back.  Instantly her chest seemed to ease.  She was going to say something about bad touch or ask what the hell werewolf mojo that was but the sudden lack of pain hit her like a truck and she fell asleep first.

‘Oops,’ thought Derek.  He was going to use his words, he had actual things to tell Stiles tonight but he started smelling her distress from the fence in her yard.  He could barely remember anything that happened between smelling Stiles and his current predicament.  At least the sheriff was still asleep thought Derek checking with his ears yet again.

If he wasn’t, if he woke up right now and opened that door Derek didn’t think he’d be able to move.  Well, he would probably wrap Stiles in a death grip and wolf out, maybe (probably) he would roar too.  If they were lucky the sheriff would faint and when he woke up Stiles could pretend he had a nightmare.  Except the sheriff was a sheriff and he wouldn’t faint, he would probably pull a sawed-off shotgun out of his terry bathrobe pocket and shoot. 

Derek amused himself most of the night with different sheriff scenarios and by the time morning came and the sheriff actually awoke Derek was okay with sliding out from behind Stiles and hiding in her closet.

The sheriff was pleased with how well Stiles had slept.  Her illness had come on so quickly maybe it would go away quickly too.  That would be nice for once.  He stared down at her and thought about breakfast versus the healing powers of sleep and then decided to shower and get dressed first; maybe Stiles would wake up on her own.

Half an hour later he put some toast and a note on her night table and gave her a quick kiss goodbye.  When he turned to go he kicked one of Derek’s boots half out from under the bed but he never glanced down.

Derek waited until the sheriff’s car had pulled away and then he emerged from the closet and stretched his arms, absent-mindedly snagging a piece of the toast and munching it as he checked his e-mail.

Stiles’ room wasn’t a bad place to wait around.  He perused her computer games, her dvd’s and her books hoping that he would hear her wake up before she caught him snooping.

Slowly he became aware of her breathing getting labored again.  She was lying too flat on her back and it wasn’t doing her lungs any favors.  Derek walked over and wondered about moving her, waking her, drawing off her discomfort.  Because she was on her back he ended up sliding his hand under her shirt and up her chest.  ‘Oops,’ he thought again but he really did feel like a creeperwolf this time as his thumb came to rest beneath the curve of her breast.

‘Please don’t wake up,’ he prayed as the black lines curled up his arm and she slipped back into a deeper, quieter sleep.  Carefully, he pulled his hand away, not even daring to look at her chest.

For some reason he ended up reading her dictionary again.  Scrabble was a big thing in his family and there was a huge dictionary on a stand and everything in their living room for settling disputes.  It felt like home to flip through the pages and stop on an interesting picture.  He must have been in the e’s reading about _engrossed_ because he didn’t notice Stiles waking up until he looked up and saw her looking back.

“Hey,” he said.  “Good morning sunshine,” because that was another stupid thing from his family.  It got him an eye crinkle of happiness though so that was okay.

Stiles stretched and sat up before he could go hover over her and touch her inappropriately again, so Derek kept his distance.

“What did you do?” she asked, “Last night, with the black vein things?  I feel as good as new today.”  And then she coughed a little but smiled ruefully anyway.

“It’s a werewolf power; we can absorb another’s pain.  We like, draw it in and then our healing overwhelms the pain and it disappears.  We can’t cure illnesses though, just ease suffering I guess.”

“Well, I feel like I just woke up from the Odinsleep, I don’t know if I have ever slept that well before, thanks.”

Derek glanced down at his dictionary page, _evasive_ , and hoped that she wouldn’t realize it was so _effective_ because he did it continuously all night long, like a creeperwolf.

Stiles was still moving around though, bending her legs and crawling around on the bed.  “I feel shower and get dressed better,” she muttered as she found the note from her dad.  She read the note and then glanced around and on the floor.

Derek stood up, “I might have accidentally eaten your toast.  Let me make you something better while you shower.”

“Okay,” said Stiles amused that someone could accidentally eat a sick person’s breakfast.

“And then I have news for you too,” said Derek mysteriously as he shelved the dictionary and headed for the kitchen.

 

His make up breakfast was much better than the dry toast he had stolen.  He made her a plain cheese omelet with fresh toast and lots of butter because in all his years of super senses butter had never betrayed him.

Stiles ate it quick enough that it seemed like he had chosen well.  She looked better; her hair was still damp and curling a little around her ears.  Stiles wore her hair very short but she had such big eyes and such a delicate girly face that it worked.  He couldn’t imagine her with long hair actually; it would overwhelm the rest of her.  ‘And also you wouldn’t see as much neck,’ the evil voice in his head (which he wasn’t going to call creeperwolf) pointed out helpfully.

She was wearing socks and sweatpants and an old red t-shirt, her eyes were bright but she was still pale and wan looking.  Derek wanted to eat her up and keep her safe in his belly.

 

“So,” he began to distract himself from inappropriate behavior.  “A couple of years ago this guy up in Cascade Washington, Blair Sandburg, made big headlines because he had written a book about how there are some people among us with super senses.  He called them sentinels.  It was a major story for a little while but then he came out and said he had made the whole thing up and it was a hoax.”

Stiles wracked her brain but she had no recollection whatsoever.

“I’m not surprised you don’t remember, you were pretty young and it really did blow over quick.  I remember though because when it first came out Laura and I were worried that he was revealing werewolves.  And then when he recanted everything we were really worried that he was involved with werewolves.

“We even went and tracked him down, I don’t know why really.  Laura wanted to I guess and she was my alpha,” Derek shrugged remembering his late teen years and just doing whatever Laura told him to do, wishing she would tell him to do something huge and dangerous to make up for the fire.

“Anyway, we met him.  Talked for a while, he didn’t smell like a wolf or like a wolf had been near him.  He was a cop by that time, which seemed odd for someone who had just confessed on national TV to such a huge lie, and his partner came by our table after lunch.  Must have been a very protective partner, I’m sure he spied on our whole meeting.  He wasn’t a wolf either, and he didn’t smell like any kind of creature but he looked at us like he knew we weren’t normal.”

“So you think his partner was the one with the super senses and he could smell that you guys were different?”

Derek nodded, still trying to pick up the details of that long ago meeting.  “And it was strange because he knew we were something but he didn’t really give a shit what, he just wanted us away from Blair.  Far away, quickly.”

Stiles nodded, it seemed like a legit plan to her.  “Did you call this Blair guy?”

“Yeah, I told him who I was and about you.  He gave up pretending he made it up and told me that he thinks the abilities are latent in most people, or some people at least, and then when they’re in a stressful situation, when they need them to protect something, that’s when they come out.

“Stiles, what you did in that pool… keeping me afloat and alive all that time.  It was the bravest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

Stiles blushed, the color looking darker than usual against her pale face, “well you know, it was just stubbornness, it wasn’t anything icky like amputating your arm with a Sawzall.”  Derek stuck that arm out to her across the table and they linked their fingers again.

They tidied up the kitchen and Derek finally remembered the wet clothes he had left in the washing machine.  They reeked so bad that they had to run them through again, the cheap detergent and mildewed clothes made them both gag.

“You might want to start looking for organic and unscented products.  It makes things easier.” Stiles nodded, her dad was pretty oblivious to groceries so switching brands shouldn’t be too hard.

“Can I talk to Blair myself?” she asked.  “I mean we could Skype him together or something.  I just, I have questions I guess.”

“Of course,” said Derek.  “I was expecting you to have questions, I do know you.”  He looked adorably grumpy as he said that and Stiles really wanted to pinch his cheek.

 

 

Derek emailed his guy and they set up a Skype date for the next day.  Derek thought that Stiles would be disappointed about waiting almost a whole day but she seemed fine.  Too late Derek realized she didn’t mind because it gave her time to plan a whole dossier of questions and cross-questions and follow-up questions.  Once armed with Blair’s name she even tracked down the original news reports and somehow managed to read all of them.  “I told you,” she replied smugly the next day when Derek boggled at her stack of research, “it was like the Odinsleep.”

“You’re still sick,” he growled.  Derek had meant to stop by last night to check on Stiles but he was sidetracked by the kanima; he prayed that nobody was keeping Stiles updated.  It was odd that she hadn’t asked about her ‘scaly buddy’ in two days but he trusted Scott not to bring it up either. 

Scott was supposed to be keeping Stiles company tonight, his mom and the sheriff were both working, but Stiles had told him he could stay home or go out because Derek was stopping by.  And really a few days ago that would have made Scott handcuff himself to Stiles, if she still had those chains, but things were different now. 

The pool had changed everything, Stiles had changed everything –or mostly Derek.  When Scott arrived at that pool the look on Derek’s face was the same as the sheriff had looked when Stiles’ mom died.  It was horrible, and Derek didn’t even try to hide it with any gruffitude.  Stiles had undone him by jumping in that pool and almost killing herself, he was _never_ going to hurt her now.  It was actually kind of funny, well maybe not yet, but soon and for a long time after; especially when it started to annoy Stiles.  Scott could almost see the constipated look on Derek’s face as he tried to control himself and Stiles against her wishes.

But for now Scott was willing to cover for them while they Skyped some guy about Stiles’ mysterious new powers.  ‘Taking one for the team,’ he congratulated himself as he patted Derek on the shoulder and climbed out the window that Derek had just climbed though.  “I’ll be at Allison’s if you need me,” he called and Derek couldn’t suppress a tiny growl.

Derek pulled off his leather jacket and dropped it on the floor near the window then made his way to Stiles’ desk.  She looked tired to him and the pile of papers near her elbow made him feel guilty about not putting her to bed the night before.  Tonight though, he wouldn’t leave until she was sound asleep.

There was only one desk chair so Derek didn’t let himself think too much while he scooped her up and sat down with her on his lap.  She was cold in his arms, the idiot, and he remembered suddenly the afghan that had been on the back of the couch in the living room when he was a boy.  He glanced around but there was nothing similar in Stiles’ room, with a low growl, with a growl that he hoped was low, he leaned over and wrapped one hand around her feet, holding tight to her waist with his other so he didn’t dump her on the ground.

“Hey,” squawked Stiles at the sudden motion and lack of words, except Derek was incredibly warm.  She hadn’t really noticed how chillin’ it was outside of her bed and blankets.

Derek gave her a filthy look and then set her down on the chair again while he got up and looked for socks.  He came back with a wool pair and paused to see if he was going to have to do it himself or if she could manage.  Stiles was blushing a little as she snatched them out of his hand and pulled them on.  “I know, I know I’m still sick, I just didn’t notice.  I was distracted.”

They got themselves arranged on the chair again and Derek was irritated to see that Blair was waiting for them; he would have gotten up again to find a sweater if there was time.

 

Blair remembered the sullen teenage boy and his slightly older sister.  He remembered how they had tracked him down and the questions that Laura had asked him, probing what he knew and what he believed –very Scully.  Jim had actually cut them off when the questions became too pointed and when Jim had decided that their scent wasn’t entirely human.  Heck yes, Blair wanted to talk to that boy again.

Or man, he was definitely a man now and how old was the girl in his lap?  Blair checked that he had the right address even though he recognized Derek.

Derek glared a little at him when Blair came into focus; it almost made Blair laugh remembering what an emo twerp he had been before; apparently the years hadn’t changed that.

“Blair, this is Stiles, the person I told you about.” Derek sort of growled and looked busy wrapping his hands around her upper arms.

Person seemed generous to Blair, wisp might be more accurate.  Stiles looked like she was all eyes, and pert nose, and intriguing little moles and what _fifteen_?  He couldn’t really tell, especially when she beamed at him.

Stiles ran through her symptoms pretty quickly and Blair was convinced that something was going on, especially since Derek seemed convinced.  And well, Stiles had done her homework.  It was interesting that she had ADHD, he wasn’t sure if that would help or hinder her in life.  It was disconcerting to him that she was so small and young; he was used to Jim, his sentinel, being the muscle.  He would have felt much less wrong-footed if Derek had the super senses and Stiles was his guide, Stiles would be a good guide.  She was smart and fast and did her research; he could easily see her as the guide and Derek as the walking crime lab.

But then again, if situations became dangerous Derek would be a powerful guide.  Not much would get past him to injure Stiles if she was zoned out.  It sort of reassured Blair and sort of worried him more, how old was Derek when they first met?  Was he fifteen or sixteen then?  Did that make him 24 now? 

Twenty-four with a fifteen or sixteen year-old girl on his lap?  And the bond between the sentinel and the guide, it was a close bond.  He didn’t know how to warn them that the odds were high they would develop feelings, more feelings.  Potentially statutorily incorrect feelings. 

He wanted to give Derek some credit and anyway to some extent what was done was done.  They were guide and sentinel already; Derek would not have tracked him down and set all of this up if he wasn’t her guide.  Plus, how dangerous was life for a high school student?  It was really that back and forth of saving each other that had created the bond between him and Jim. 

Blair looked at Derek again; it was distracting to see their faces so close, to see so much affection on Derek’s face hidden behind Stiles’ shoulder.  Stiles noticed that he was looking past her just then; she turned to look at Derek, her mouth open as if she was going to ask him to leave or something.  But Derek wasn’t going to leave, Blair could see his bicep clench just a little.

Stiles seemed to give up without Blair hearing a word spoken between them.  She turned back to the camera and pulled out a pencil and her list.  “If this gets to be too much for you I can email the questions.”

“I’m sure it will be fine, fire away,” replied Blair as he tried to focus himself.

It took Derek a while to focus too, even over Skype Blair was ridiculously easy to read.  That last look, that one said, ‘dude, what is she sixteen?’  It was only through a combination of desperateness and stubbornness that Derek’s cheeks didn’t turn red.  Stiles probably would have smelled the heat in them, and God, what then.

 

Finally, after hundreds of questions and some real cajoling and whining about Skyping the actual sentinel, which Blair shut down, Stiles started to slow down.  Blair had no idea how lucky he was that she was still pretty sick; if she wasn’t just out of the hospital and hadn’t stayed up most of the night before researching there would have been a lot more questions and a lot more bouncing around.

It was tempting for Derek to draw off the discomfort and fatigue he could feel building in her chest, but then she would Skype forever.  Instead he just glowered more and more until finally Blair got the hint and promised to answer any more questions in email.

After some really sincere thank yous and goodbyes Stiles closed down the window and then shut down her computer.  She relaxed back against Derek and he enjoyed it for a moment, they both had a lot to think about.

He probably sat there too long because she was almost asleep when he decided it was time for Stiles to brush her teeth.  She was awake enough to slump in front of the mirror though as he dug out the pink toothbrush and squeezed some toothpaste on it.  When she was done and had made him actually smile with her faces she pushed him out so she could pee.

Derek was lurking near the bed; he wanted to draw off her pain again, preferably without climbing in the bed though.  Blair had seemed freaked out enough and he only knew half of it.

Stiles climbed in but leaned back against the headboard and gestured for Derek to sit down too.  “Thanks,” she finally said.  “It was really good to talk to that guy, I feel a lot better now, less weird.”

“I’m glad,” said Derek, too softly, too intimately, and he stopped himself from saying more.

“You’re guiding me aren’t you?” 

“I guess, you know, if I can help.  It doesn’t have to be like Blair and Jim though, they had the whole secrecy thing going on but you already told Scott and you can tell Allison.  After werewolves this isn’t going to be too hard to swallow, right?”

“But not my dad.”

“Probably not yet.”

“Mmm,” said Stiles, “because eventually even Merlin had to tell Arthur that he was magic.”

“Exactly,” said Derek.

“Liar,” accused Stiles, “you never watched that show.”

“There was a show?” asked Derek but Stiles could hear the smile in his voice and couldn’t tell if he had seen it or not.  It seemed like something she should pursue, something that was important but Derek was rubbing her back now and her eyes were slipping closed.

“Come on, get comfy,” he said pulling her down and shoving pillows under her head.  She was wearing a v-neck shirt tonight and Derek paused with his huge hand hovering over her exposed chest.  He could see her throat fluttering as her pulse pounded, not the desired result exactly. 

But she pulled his hand the last inch, “please,” she said.  “It helps a lot, I like my Odinsleep.”

“Of course,” Derek smiled but then his smile dropped away.  “Stiles, I am a lot older than you are.”

“I know, that’s what’s going to make you such a good guide.”

“But nothing more.”

“Right.  Dad will probably appreciate that.”  Already her pulse was slowing down and her eyes were slipping closed, the Odinsleep was upon her. 

 

 

Stiles woke up alone which was sort of disappointing but also okay.  Once upon a time she always woke up alone.  It wasn’t as magical as the first Odinsleep but she felt good, almost back to normal.  Whatever value normal has she thought flipping over but then as quick as that she was scrambling out of bed for her phone.

She called Derek which was weird but instinctive, “Derek,” she breathed when he answered, “nobody has told me what’s up with my scaly buddy.”

“That abomination is not your buddy Stiles.”

“Have you figured out yet that it isn’t Lydia?”

“Yes,” he sighed, “you were right it isn’t her.”

“Is it Jackson then?”

Derek made a response that was probably supposed to be some kind of impatient growl thing but it seemed like a whine to Stiles.  Her breath caught, “I’m so sorry.”

The next sound was supposed to be a gruff sort of laugh but Stiles heard a choking noise of grief and guilt.  “You think this is all your fault because you bit him when he asked you to.”

“Yeah, well…” replied Derek.

“Alright,” interrupted Stiles, “say we allow that.  Still, you didn’t expect him to become a lizard monster.  Did you expect him to reject the bite and die?”

“No, of course I didn’t.  But I’m not even sure if I thought at all, he got to me that night you know.  I was going out of my mind with the alpha thing.  The drive to bite and turn, the drive to make a pack was overwhelming.”

“That must be what happened to your uncle too.  I heard about your sister’s death on the scanner and dragged Scott out to the woods.  Peter must have been in that frenzy when he found Scott.”

Derek made a hurt whining kind of noise but maybe it was just a sigh; she was concentrating so hard on listening to him that she could hear the zipper on his leather jacket squeak when he shifted his hand.

“But Jackson asked,” Stiles continued on, insisting.  “And I’m sure he saw that you were all keyed up; he’s a total douche like that sometimes.”

Derek’s next noise wasn’t hurt or sad at all, he growled and his words came out sharp like his teeth probably were, “Stiles, did he hurt you?”

“No, not really, he’s just a douche; a rich, popular, smart, athletic, good-looking pile of jack-assery.”  This response generated more growling.  Fuck, Stiles thought to herself not wanting to share any of the times Jackson had humiliated her.  A faint ringing noise worked to distract her.

“Is that an alarm clock going off?” she asked wondering vaguely what time it was.

“No, it’s the church bell on Lancaster Street, for some obscene reason it rings at four a.m. every night.” 

Stiles’ brain shorted out and she suddenly became aware of her room again all at once.   She must have made a noise because she could feel Derek’s concern crawling out of the phone in her hand.

“I can’t hear a church that far away Derek, and my room, when I woke up it looked like morning; even now it doesn’t look that dark, Derek.”

“Shh, the moon is bright tonight Stiles, your curtains are always open I bet it’s shining right in there.  It’s okay, you’re okay.”

“I’m not,” she whined, “I’m cold.  Oh my god, I didn’t even think of it and now I feel like I’m too cold to move, my feet are aching now Derek and I didn’t even…”

“Derek?” she asked again because their connection had static now.  If their connection got cut off Stiles knew with 100% certainty that she would have a panic attack.  Would she be able to scream, to wake her dad and get him into her room or would her throat close up and trap her there, stuck to the floor in the moonlight?  She wanted to call to Derek again but her lips wouldn’t move, she must have managed another sound though because suddenly the static stopped and she could hear Derek panting.  Panting?

“Stiles, I’m almost to your house okay?  I’ll be there soon, just, just think about how I’ll be there soon.”

Stiles was able to take a small breath before her chest throbbed, she thought she nodded her head too but it was hard to tell.  She listened to her phone, it wasn’t like she could move her arm anyway.  The static was actually the wind she realized and she could hear Derek breathing a little, not panting as much as when he stopped but more like an engine churning.  He must be running with the phone still at his ear she marveled.

He dropped the phone as he came in the window though; she heard it like a gunshot as it hit her carpet.  And then Derek was in her face, picking her up and holding her close while he carried her back to her bed, smoothing down her back, tucking her in, climbing in behind her.  Stiles wrapped her own hands around his arm and squeezed as hard as she could.

“That was the worst thing ever,” she finally mumbled.

“Yes, yes it was.” Derek agreed.  “I don’t even know what happened.”

“Me neither, well, I guess I woke up and remembered about the kanima and how nobody had told me what was going on.  So I got up and found my phone and called you and we were just talking about it but I was zoned in on you, really zoned, and the zone broke all at once.  Maybe it’s like when they say you shouldn’t wake up a sleepwalker that must be why, right?”

Derek tightened his arms then, because he was the one who had broken the zone.

“Shut up,” said Stiles even though Derek hadn’t spoken, “you didn’t know that was going to happen.”

Derek pulled the blankets up higher, not at all happy about how icy her skin felt and how fast her heart was still beating.

“Why did you even answer the phone?” she asked.

She felt Derek shrug behind her.  “I always answer when you call; it’s usually either important or amusing.”

“Sometimes it’s important to be amusing,” mumbled Stiles and he realized that his hand was on her chest again, her heart was slowing and he was sending her to the Odinsleep.  It took effort to pull his hand away; he moved it to her shoulder where the t-shirt blocked his inadvertent mojo.

Stiles sighed but it didn’t seem sad.  “We’re going to figure this shit out Derek.  Don’t worry.”

Derek sighed too, “Stiles, I keep messing up.”  He sounded completely wrecked, which was alarming because Stiles didn’t think he had screwed up that badly.  Derek continued, “Maybe we should see if your dad or Scott can be your guide.”

Stiles’ heart started to pick up again, “but, but my dad doesn’t know about any supernatural shit.  What would I tell him?  And Scott, Scott has Allison and she’s great and she’s patient and all but I would take up his time and then they won’t be as close and she’s his anchor.  What if I mess that up?”  She felt Derek loosen his arms just a tiny bit and kept babbling.

“Plus, I want you.  I thought we were friends and we have the whole banter thing down cold, well I have the banter and you have the highly expressive eyebrows.  And you make me feel safe.  You answered when I called you at four o’clock in the morning and you ran to my house.  I thought we were good for each other.”

“Stiles, did you see Blair’s face?  He was horrified.”

“Screw Blair.”

“Stiles, I’m an alpha too and if we do this then I’m going to think you’re in my pack.”

There was a long pause as Stiles thought about that.  Scott didn’t want to join Derek’s pack, what would it mean to him if Stiles went ahead?  “Shit,” she finally muttered. 

It was frustrating that he was making her join the pack but if she wanted his protection and his time like that, well, he could humor her and pretend she wasn’t joining his pack but it wouldn’t be the truth.  She actually had to kind of admire Derek for pointing it out to her.  Finally she thought of the question to ask, “what does pack mean?”

 

Derek was so fucking tired, why did these deep talks always have to happen in the middle of the night?  Instead of overthinking he just answered her, “for me pack just means family.  Growing up my family was my pack, I can’t pretend I’ll be doing anything different from what I know.  We hang out together, we protect each other, it isn’t too complicated.”

“But Scott’s like my brother, shouldn’t I be in his pack if it means family?”

Derek shrugged, “You wouldn’t have to stop being his family, you wouldn’t be you if you did that.  But it won’t be easy; you’ll have two loaded guns that want to shoot each other.”

“Wow, that’s really vivid.  And it will be up to me and my nonexistent tact to keep you from pulling the triggers?  That’s kind of terrifying.

But, last night Scott was okay with leaving you here with me.  So, there’s that one tiny recent incident at least, right?”

“Worry over you is something that we can agree on,” Derek confirmed.

“I’m guessing it’s also something that could set you off though.  Like you were growling over Jackson just a little while ago weren’t you?”

“Yes,” lisped Derek and Stiles knew without turning around that the extra hissiness was because his fangs had dropped.

Finally Stiles spoke again, in a small voice she asked, “is it worth that risk then, and if you’re spending time with me what about your new wolves?  What about dragging them into fights with Scott?  What about all of this distracting everyone from the kanima?  Now I can’t even ask you to be my guide.”

“I am your guide, and I’ll probably try to kill anyone else who tries to take it from me.”

“Maybe I don’t really need a guide.”

“Stiles, look where we are now and you haven’t even tried to leave your room yet.”

“Shit, so we’re stuck with each other,” sighed Stiles. 

And now he had made her feel insecure, like he didn’t want her in his pack.  See, he was messing up.

 

The next morning was apparently a Saturday because Scott arrived around ten and insisted on taking her out for some fresh air.  It was good that he did because if she had put it off any longer Stiles probably would have talked herself into some sort of agoraphobia, she had that potential.

As it was she quizzed Scott before they left, “will I actually be getting out of the car?”

“Yes,” Scott replied, concerned by the question as he drove straight to Dr. Deaton’s office.

“This is my big fresh air trip?” complained Stiles.  But then she decided to conserve her breath so she could get to his office without wheezing.

Dr. Deaton offered her a glass of water and glared at Scott.  “So Stiles, I hear you’ve had an interesting week.”

She told him about almost drowning and how her senses went a little crazy, how Derek had remembered Blair Sandburg and his sentinel story and how she had talked to Blair the night before.  She forgot to mention all of the guide stuff though, oops.

Dr. Deaton remembered the sentinel story too, he didn’t mention guides exactly but he looked at Scott a lot.  They talked for a while about how Blair had done an amazing job of almost discovering the supernatural world, and almost revealing it. 

“Is there a supernatural term for what I am now?” asked Stiles, she didn’t think there was but Deaton knew more than she did.

“Not exactly, but Stiles I believe that almost everyone has a potential inside of them and circumstances can unlock certain abilities.  Now that you are surrounded by creatures it’s natural for you to develop more.”

“More, more what?  You don’t think this is it?”

“No, I think you have more latent abilities to tap.”  Dr. Deaton got up and opened a cabinet to give her a small but heavy bag.

“What is this?” she asked wrinkling her nose.

“You tell me,” he replied and waited.  Scott leaned over to sniff it too but recoiled quickly.

Stiles hesitantly sniffed harder, it didn’t make her want to recoil though, it just smelled like fire, no like ashes.  What kind of ashes she wondered, and she looked around at all the woodwork in Deaton’s office.  It was hard to tell though because that stuff was all painted and polyurethaned, and if she thought about it much harder all the chemicals would give her a migraine.

“It’s ashes, probably from some sort of magical tree.  Not wolfsbane because you wouldn’t have let Scott sniff it like that but maybe something that protects without hurting.  And now that I think about it there’s a lot of wood in your office, so it’s probably the same as that but I don’t know the specific kind because it’s all covered in paint and also I don’t know any specific trees really except like oak and maple.”

“I bet there’s one other hardwood tree that you can think of.”

Stiles thought for a while and then suddenly blurted, “ash!”

Deaton smiled proudly at her.  “Mountain ash, and it is protective just like you conjectured.  You could install a mountain ash door and a werewolf wouldn’t be able to break it down.  Or you can take the ashes in your hand and trace out a circle on the ground, no supernatural creature would be able to break the circle and get you.”

“Or I could trap them in the circle.”

“Yes, but it isn’t actually that simple, there’s one more ingredient.”

“Okay, what is it?  The blood of a virgin because I might know where to find some of that.”

Deaton shook his head and Scott made a little choking sound while he scrubbed at his ears.  “No, the other ingredient is you,” Stiles was giving him a look like, what do you mean no, and he quickly struggled to continue on, “I mean the other ingredient is your will power.  You have to believe that this mumbo jumbo absolutely will work for it to work.”

“Strange that you would say Jumbo,” started Stiles.

“Not really,” said Deaton.

 

They left Dr. Deaton’s office, Stiles tried to offer him money for the bag of ashes but Deaton just looked at her like she was nuts.  As he often did.

Scott drove for a while and then parked by the empty lacrosse field, they got out of the car and slowly walked to the bleachers.  It felt really bright and open, busy too with the wind and the grass moving and birds calling and so much going on.

Her head swiveled all around following each distraction.  Scott put his hand on her shoulder and looked around with her, “it’s a lot going on isn’t it?”

“Yeah, but I think I’m okay.  It’s almost like the ADHD was preparing me with sixteen years of, ‘ooh shiny, ooh shiny.’  I think maybe I got this.

The problem is going to be zoning in, like you know how I get sucked into my homework sometimes and accidentally write a sixteen page essay instead of three?”

Scott nodded, remembering that exact day.

“Well, I can kind of do that with my senses too.  So like that squirrel on the tree over there, I can zoom way in on him and notice every little hair on his furry ass but while I’m doing that a truck could run over me and I wouldn’t notice.”

“My superpowers totally don’t work like that.  Well, I don’t think they do… No, I’m sure they don’t because my superpower makes me a top predator and your superpower can make you lunch.”

“I know.  And also after the truck drives over me I’m totally dead because I don’t have super strength or healing.”

“So, what do we do?” asked Scott, beginning to worry.

“Well, I asked about training but they said it might not help that much.  Blair said that I pretty much just need to have babysitters who can watch my back when I’m zoning.  And I should also try to learn how to zone on purpose only when there’s that babysitter person around.”

“I can be your babysitter.” Scott instantly volunteered.

Stiles looked down and kicked the splintery old bleacher wood in front of her.  “Of course you can Scotty, whenever we’re together but I don’t want you to change your life to babysit me.  You need time to spend with your mom and with Allison.”

“Yeah, I guess, but we spend a lot of time together normally so all that time, that’s me.”

“Yup,” replied Stiles kicking some more.

Scott looked at her for a minute, “you asked Derek to be your other babysitter didn’t you?”

“You know, babysitter was just an analogy so you would get the idea.  Blair said that the more correct anthropological term is guide.  I like guide better.”

“Yeah, because asking Derek to be your babysitter is sixteen kinds of creepy and asking him to be your guide isn’t.”

Stiles had no response to that.

“Stiles,” Scott started but he just sighed when he realized he didn’t know what to say next.

Stiles understood, “he’s not a terrible person, well he’s not an intentionally terrible person.”

“He bit what, four teenagers now?”

“They all asked for the bite, he told them the pros and cons and let them choose.”

“Yeah, but they’re still teenagers, they couldn’t legally have sex with Derek so why should they let him bite them?  How is that okay?”

“The consent law in California is like super conservative Scott, that’s a bad example.”

“Stiles, they can’t even buy beer –how can they make a permanent life choice?”

“People make life choices every day Scott, kids younger than us have shitty lives and they choose to make them better.  I don’t think it’s for us to judge what made them decide to ask.”

“Well Isaac and Erica maybe, Boyd perhaps but Jackson is a douche.  I can’t believe he bit Jackson.”

“I know, he regrets that.  He said it was because Jackson was right there after he became the alpha and he was on some kind of blood lust thing.  It sounded like when Peter bit you.”

“I can’t imagine Peter going around offering teenagers the bite and then respecting their wishes.”

Stiles sucked in a huge telling breath and Scott’s head whipped around.

“What?  Are you saying he did?  He asked you didn’t he?  Of course he would ask you, and you actually said no?  and he actually left it at that?”

“Yeah, pretty much.  Because you know me, what on earth would I do with superpowers, they would just mess me up.  Right?”

“Oh Stiles, I’m sorry.  I got a little off track there didn’t I?  But why didn’t you ever tell me about Peter talking to you like that?  He was such a slimy bastard, did he do anything else?”

Stiles sighed again and wrapped her arms around her legs, “it was the night of the dance.  He lured both Lydia and I out to the lacrosse field, after he attacked her he kidnapped me to try and find Derek.”

“Oh my God, and you didn’t tell me any of this?”

“It all ended that night, there didn’t seem to be any point.”

“There’s always a point in telling your brother when you’ve been kidnapped by a psycho alpha werewolf.  Always.”  Scott paused to take deep breaths and hold his head for a while before he continued, “did you tell Derek?”

“No, tell him what?”

“That you were kidnapped by a psycho alpha werewolf?”

“He didn’t bite me and I set him on fire that same night, it seems like it’s done.”

“You’re a loon.”

“No you are, like literally dude.”

“Whatever, I’m glad you told me and now I’m glad that Derek is your other babysitter.  I might even be able to muster up some gladness that he probably considers you pack now.”

“Scott!  I was carefully omitting that information.”

“Yeah, well it’s kind of obvious from where I’m sitting.  But it wasn’t cool the way Erica wrecked your Jeep and knocked you out the other day, at least now Derek won’t let her do that shit anymore.”

“Yeah, being considered part of his pack exponentially increases my number of babysitters.”

“What did Derek say about me joining his pack, or about you being part of my pack?”

“He said that packs are like families so he understands that I can’t leave you, but then he also said that it’s like I have two loaded guns now set to go off and it’s up to me to keep you guys from killing each other.”

“That’s bullshit Stiles, he’s such a monster that he needs to make you responsible for him not murdering someone?”

“Scott, if I’m out with Derek and a truck runs me over what would you do to him?”

Scott thought about it for a minute, “okay I guess that’s a fair point. “

They were silent for a little bit longer, Scott’s stomach growled and reminded them that it was probably a good time to head home for lunch.  “I hope you get a handle on this zoning thing Stiles.”

“Me too Scott, me too.”

 

Stiles wasn’t sure who would be babysitting/guiding her that night but she had _Thor_ out and ready to go when Scott called to say that he was going to the Jungle.  “What?” she squawked, totally frustrated because she was already in pajamas. 

“I was chasing the kanima and it headed that way, I know that Danny said he was going there tonight and if the kanima is Jackson maybe it knows somehow.  I guess I don’t really know but I have to keep following.”

“Okay, Dad brought my Jeep home this afternoon so I can meet you there in fifteen or twenty…”

“Stiles you’re still sick you need to stay home.”

“Yeah but there’s no babysitter so I guess I can do what I want.”

Scott growled and then hung up.  Stiles turned off the tv and ran upstairs to get dressed for clubbing, -woo!

 

She was actually kind of shocked that Scott was waiting for her but then again her safety was now in everyone’s best interest.  That wasn’t going to get annoying, no not at all.  Scott smashing the door open and sneaking them in the back was awesome though.

The drag queens were also awesome, a fancy madam in purple asked Stiles his name.  “Err,” said Stiles quickly noticing even without sentinel powers that everyone in the Jungle was a guy, presumably gay guys, hmmm.  “My name is Stiles,” replied Stiles quickly and as androgynously as possible.

She stayed and chatted for a little while before escaping, well not really escaping because drag queens are awesome, but catching up with Scott again at the bar.  “Scott,” she hissed, “this is a gay bar.”

“I noticed Stiles.”

“Dude, how incredibly lucky is it that I dressed like this?”

“What?” asked Scott, “you always dress like that.”  He double checked her Converse low tops, jeans, t-shirt and flannel; all in order.  He looked back up to her face and suddenly realized that with her short hair and no make up and usual clothes, crap even her name, Scott got it now.  He felt bad for a moment for his mom, she really did try to feminize Stiles.  Scott noticed, so did the sheriff, but it rolled right off Stiles back without ever sticking.

“I get it,” Scott corrected, “it’s super lucky.”  He wrapped an arm over Stiles’ shoulders, just the thing to get rid of that creepy dude across the bar from him, and together they turned to survey the situation.

“So Danny is killing it on the dance floor and my scaly buddy is getting ready to kill it from the ceiling up there.  Do you see him?”

Scott nodded, how the hell did she find it up there so quickly?  “How did you find it up there?”

“I don’t know, I guess I pretended I was the scaly dude and then asked myself where I would be lurking and there it was.  To find Danny I just triangulated where all the skeevy old guys were staring.”

“Nice work,” said Scott because it was.  “Okay, I will see if I can get your scaly buddy to leave and you see if you can escort Danny to safety.”

“Okay, that’s a good plan, we’ll meet by my Jeep?”

Scott nodded and slipped away into the crowd.  Stiles decided to finish her drink, it was just a diet coke but it had cost her four dollars.  After crunching just one ice cube Stiles set off for the throng surrounding Danny.  Danny seemed pretty happy out there, she could smell his cologne it mingled well with the sweat that was shining on his neck.  His head was thrown back a little, kind of cliché she decided but he made it look good, she could see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed.  His mouth was open and she realized he was talking to the guy next to him, he was telling him about his ex, they were playing it large for the ex she realized.  The man next to Danny glanced over and Stiles saw instantly the guy he was looking at.  He was wearing the same cologne as Danny and that just seemed sweet.  He was wearing a t-shirt for a band that Danny liked too, the poor baby.  His belt was closed one hole tighter than the wear marks said it usually was, the guy was totally pining.  And Danny was torturing him, something had to be done about this.

That was totally her plan right before she was shoved out of the way by the dance floor crowd that was apparently screaming and panicking.  Oh.  Except for the people that were already down on the floor, frozen in a manner she was extremely familiar with.  Oww.  She was shoved again and stepped on a little, people were really starting to behave poorly now as they stampeded for the exits and Stiles felt her own panic rising.

Which of course started to make her chest seize up, who’s bright idea was it to go clubbing just a few days after being hospitalized?  And then in the distance she heard sirens and the thought of her dad finding her in this shit storm had her vision starting to gray.

That was when a couple of huge forearms covered in purple spangly fabric scooped her up and carried her out to the fresh night air.  The noise level was just as loud though and lights were already flashing, Stiles closed her eyes tightly and focused on breathing through her nose, hoping she could get it together while she was still moderately safe.

As her heart and the other noises stopped thundering in her ears Stiles became aware of another voice, it was the person holding her speaking soothingly.  “That’s it sugar, calm the fuck down, calm the fuck down.”

Stiles peeked her eyes open to see that she was in a protective circle of drag queens.  “Now, we’re guessing that you are a wee bit underage and don’t want to get in trouble for being here.”

Stiles nodded, scratching her cheek on the sequins and snuggled closer, away from all the chaos.

“Did you take any drugs honey, you’re acting a little strange?”

“No, I’m just special,” said Stiles as she hoped the queen wouldn’t put her down yet.  Her legs felt like noodles and she felt like she was drowning again.

“Tell us you came with a friend sweetie.” Insisted another voice, this one sounding more concerned.

“He’s meeting me at my Jeep, the old blue one in the lot.”  That’s it thought Stiles, that’s the end of my line.  I’m going to fall asleep in a drag queen’s arms now and just hope for the best.

 

Scott was not surprised to see a knot of drag queens furtively making their way to Stiles’ Jeep.  He was surprised to see her passed out though.  “Here, give her to me,” he insisted immediately, trying to keep from wolfing out over these strangers.  Without waiting for any sort of response he pulled her out of the much larger man’s arms, not like Stiles weighed anything for him either though.

“Settle down there sport,” chastised one of the men.  “He, or is it she? Was getting trampled in there and it looked like she was going to faint or something.”

“She gets panic attacks and she was sick this week, she shouldn’t have been out at all.”  Scott didn’t like the wet noises Stiles was making as she breathed so he swung her around until her head was on his shoulder and her legs around his waist.  “I’ll take her home now.”

“There are some ambulances here, should we get her checked out?” the group seemed reluctant to leave.

“The police are here too and her dad is on the force, she’ll get in a lot of trouble if he catches her out.”

“Sometimes kids should get in trouble, that’s how they learn.”

Who were these drag queens wondered Scott, were they cops and teachers too?  He thought quickly, Stiles would be proud of this lie he decided as he pulled out his puppy eyes.  “Maybe she shouldn’t have snuck out when she wasn’t feeling great but she’s been having gender questions, you know, trying to explore some things away from school and her dad.”

That brought out a wall of sympathy from the drag queens, Scott was officially going to hell.  They were all murmuring now, a few were even tearing up.  “We understand,”  “Should have guessed it the way her hair is and how she was dressed…”

Scott was praying that Stiles really was unconscious, not that his prayers counted because he was going to hell.

“Scott, is that true?!” asked a stricken voice behind him and Scott turned to see the sheriff looking pretty gray.

For  a second Scott thought about saying, ‘no, I just wanted their help to hide from you.’  But the sheriff had his gun and also the man did the worst disappointed-in-you-face ever.  Scott was convinced that he didn’t have to question perps he just sat down across from them and gave them that face.

The sheriff wasn’t looking at Scott though, he was patting him on the shoulder and saying things about how happy he was that Stiles had such a good friend, a dumbass friend for letting her go out when she was still sick, but overall good.

“Do you want me to bring her over to the ambulances sir?  I’m pretty sure she’s just asleep judging by the snoring.”  And Scott was going to be sure and bring that up later.

Someone was calling for the sheriff from near the door where they were bringing the paralyzed victims out.  “No, she usually falls asleep after a panic attack, you can just bring her home.  I’m going to be a while here, if I call your mom do you think you could stay?”

“Sure, no problem.”

“Thanks Scott,” and the sheriff walked off.

Scott turned to get Stiles situated in the back of the Jeep and saw a wall of werewolf.  “What the fuck Scott?” growled Derek.

There was a gasp and murmur from the crowd of drag queens and Scott felt them all move in closer.  Derek snarled at them and they took a collective step back.

“Thank you so much ladies, I’ll have Stiles text you in the morning so you know she’s okay.”

“Yeah, here take my card.  We can be a good resource for her, we’ve all been there,” and the big purply spangly lady who had first rescued Stiles led the rest away.  But they all looked back once or twice to see if Derek was real.

“I was trying to get Stiles’ scaly buddy to leave the club and she was supposed to be getting Danny outside to safety.  We were pretty sure Danny was the scaly buddy’s target for the night.  But then it attacked and there was a panic and the next thing I knew a bunch of drag queens were carrying her around.”

“You can just say Jackson, he’s naked and bleeding in the back of Danny’s car now.”

“No, what if the sheriff finds him there?  That’s like super suspicious isn’t it? They’re probably going to check all the cars right?”

“You don’t think it would be good for him to be locked up?”

“Not, not really.  I think we need to find a cure for him.”

“Scott these things don’t have cures.”

“You don’t know that, you haven’t read the bestiary.”

“Scott I do know, I grew up in this world.  So what are you going to do?  Move Danny’s car and save Jackson or bring Stiles home and stay with her like you promised the sheriff?

Or I know, just throw Stiles in the back of Danny’s car with Jackson.  She’s always had a little crush on him right?”

“Fuck you Derek,” muttered Scott but Derek heard loud and clear.

“Don’t shoot,” said Stiles in a soft tired voice.  She lifted her head and looked at Derek reaching for him with her arms.  Scott passed her over with a grim face.

“Scott, can you dump Danny’s car in the woods somewhere?  Maybe disable it to slow him down extra? 

Derek just offered to drive me home so I’ll meet you there later, my dad will be a couple hours at least with this mess.  I counted eight people on the floor and they’ll have to deposition all of them.”  She looked like a tiny little general in Derek’s arms with her legs wrapped around his waist and him holding her up casually with one muscled arm. 

Scott hoped the queens weren’t still watching, some of them were pretty buff and they might realize that even a buff dude couldn’t just sling around one hundred and twenty pounds like that. 

 

He found Danny’s car and Danny’s extra key where he hid it on the visor, Danny used the visor key more than he used his regular key because his key ring was always at the bottom of his giant lacrosse bag –goalies had the most gear.

Scott was basically the nicest guy you could imagine so instead of ripping out the starter and causing hundreds of dollars of damage like that bitch Erica had done he just drove until he ran out of gas.  (Well, to be fair, the idea came to him when he noticed that Danny had less than a quarter tank to begin with.)

Nice people don’t enjoy leaving people naked in the back of a stalled out car off in the woods so Scott decided to check the trunk and make sure that there was something Jackson could cover up with.  Other than the low gas Danny was a Boy Scout (not literally because he wasn’t allowed to join, and he should have been because he would be great) in his trunk there was a blanket and some water and even a box of granola bars.

Scott put the key back in the visor and made a half-assed attempt to wipe his fingerprints away.  Jackson seemed to be sleeping normally and he needed to get to Stiles' house before the sheriff.

 

After Scott walked off Derek gave in and wrapped both arms around Stiles hugging her tight and scenting her neck.  His pack, his pack was safe.

He gently set her down in the Jeep’s passenger seat and then drove off in the opposite direction of all the police cars and lights.  When they got some distance from the hubbub Stiles seemed to relax more and by the time they reached her house she was just sleepy.  Not just sleepy though, more tired than anyone in the history of ever.

“We’re home Stiles,” said Derek in a sing-song voice as he parked in her driveway.

Stiles just looked at him blankly.

Derek got up and walked to the front door then turned to wait for her to join him.  Stiles gave him a wounded look and struggled to undo her seatbelt.  Then she struggled to open the door and wobbled alarmingly when she tried to stand.  Derek just waited.

She used the Jeep for support to get mostly to the front porch and then staggered a few steps on her own until she could grab the railing.  The four steps were a huge bitch and Stiles hated Derek as she began dreading the climb to her bedroom.

He just stood there as she lurched her way up all the stairs and finally reached her bed, and just as she carefully lowered herself down the bastard said, “but Stiles, you haven’t brushed your teeth yet.”

She crawled to the bathroom.  Derek sat down across from her on the mat and handed her the pink toothbrush with a blob of toothpaste on it.  “You know,” he began, “if something had hurt you I would carry you a thousand miles and heal all the pain I could.  But you hurt yourself Stiles by going out when you weren’t healthy enough, weren’t strong enough.”

Stiles could only nod while she slowly dragged the toothbrush around her mouth and tears started to slide down her cheeks.  Derek took the toothbrush away and gave her a cup of water.  Stiles pulled herself up to spit in the sink and accidentally looked at herself in the mirror.  She looked really really bad, pale with huge dark circles under her eyes, a bruise was forming on her jaw and she vaguely remembered an elbow clocking her before the queens had saved her.

She saw Derek’s face behind her, watching her look at herself.  He looked wrecked too and she remembered him almost starting a fight in a parking lot full of cops because she was hurt.  She turned around and wiped snot and tears on his black t-shirt, leaving shiny mucus trails.  “I’m sorry,” she sobbed.

Derek sighed, over how pathetic she could be or for his t-shirt, it was hard to tell; but he must have forgiven her because he carried her back to her room and stripped off her sneakers, socks, jeans and flannel before tucking her in.


	3. Restraint

Stiles woke up having to pee worse than she had ever had to pee her in life.  She rushed off to take care of that and had vague thoughts of ‘OMG I’m a pony’ before she was fully awake.  Her second thought was that her bra was killing her so she went to her room and ripped that off before pulling on a (dirty) pair of sweats and slumping downstairs because hungry also.

Her dad was sitting there reading the paper which was weird, also it was the Monday paper so that was extra weird.  She tried to say something but her throat was too dry so she got herself some orange juice and then slumped at the table next to him.  After her second glass she was able to croak a “hey Daddy-o”.

The sheriff folded his paper and crossed his arms to look at her.  It wasn’t good.  He started with, “You’re an idiot Stiles.”

She nodded obediently.

“I am officially on family medical leave because my daughter was released from the hospital last week, against medical advice,” his voice rose a little on that part, “and then proceeded to further ignore medical advice and wore herself down to the point where she slept for 28 hours straight.”

Stiles tried to look like, ‘oh, do you have another naughty daughter that I know nothing about?’ but her dad didn’t buy it.

“I blame myself,” he continued with oh god, the disappointed-in-you-face which directly contradicted his words but was effective none-the-less.

“M’sorry daddy,” tried Stiles, but she was shut down immediately.

“No, really, I blame myself because you are a minor.  A minor with documented poor impulse control and I obviously expected too much of Scott.

What if you had been hit with that paralytic again Stiles?  What would it have done to you on top of the pneumonia?

And why are you two for two on places where that stuff has shown up?  Hmm?  I tossed your room you know, there was so much time while you were sleeping that I was able to go through every inch.”

“Dad,” she whined praising Allah with every breath for the ‘clear browser history on exit’ checkbox –use it kids!

“Happily you are not running some sort of drug lab up there, and I guess your chemistry grades support that theory.”

“Harris has been a dick ever since you dragged him in for questioning on the Hale fire,” grumbled Stiles.

“What?” asked her dad.

“Nothing,” said Stiles.  “So for realz, you’re like on vacation?”

“Yeah,” agreed the sheriff, chagrined to see her delight.  “For the week at least, although…”

“Yeah?”

“Although there was another murder last night.  Happily since you were unconscious and I was parked next to your bed you are not a suspect in this one.”

“Well duh,” said Stiles and then she wisely refrained from asking for the deets.

 

By Wednesday Stiles was ready to go back to school but the sheriff was still on his family leave so he kept her home.  Stiles had talked to Scott on the phone a few times and there were a few texts from Allison but other than that it was just her and the big man, she was totes going stir crazy.

“What if I go for half a day, just to try it out, and then you can pick me up at lunch time?” she wheedled.

“I don’t know Stiles,” replied the sheriff from behind a hundred manila folders filled with gruesome crime scene photos.  Thanks to her sentinel vision Stiles had learned that the survivor/wife of the attack on Sunday night had been killed shortly after giving birth yesterday, so whatever had done the first murder it wasn’t just an accident.   But what the hell did Jackson care about the young couple?  Stiles wasn’t going to find out at home.

Apparently or fortuitously the sheriff decided to test if Stiles would be okay the next day by going out for just one hour that night.  Potential serial killer on the loose, Stiles was not surprised.  What was surprising, sort of to her, was that she texted Derek immediately and asked him to come over.

 

Derek glided into her room an alarmingly short amount of time later.  “Hey,” she managed to smile and Derek managed to not sweep her into his arms and snuffle her within an inch of her life.

“My dad went out to try and deal with the latest murder, did you hear about it?  This girl was smothered in the hospital right after she gave birth.   Major suck for the baby right?”

Derek had no response for that, he was about two murders behind without Stiles.  Instead he managed to croak, “you look better.”

“Yeah?  Thanks, I mean thanks for bringing me home the other night and for forcing me I guess to see what I was doing.  It’s not okay that I almost made you and Scott fight.”

“Really Stiles, that’s what you got from that?”

“No, shut up.  I learned other lessons too,” replied Stiles quickly remembering her own face in the bathroom mirror.

Derek skulked around her room for a bit, he was distracted by the sheriff’s scent on everything.

“My dad thought I had some sort of meth lab gone wrong and was making the paralytic goo, I was two for two on crime scenes you know.”

Derek made a whining noise which signified he knew.

“Did you know he took family medical leave, God that’s embarrassing.  Like you didn’t shame me enough that night.”

“Stiles, it isn’t shameful to need people.”

“I know, but really it’s like I have three packs now between my dad, Scott and you.  It’s going to smother me I just know it.”

“I guess we’ll see.”

“So anyway, how is your pack?  The wolves right, the full moon is coming up and I was wondering if they’re ready.  Lord knows Scott wasn’t on his first full moon.  Although I guess Isaac has already had one, remember that night he was in jail?”

“I remember,” replied Derek with a shudder recalling how Isaac had gone for Stiles and only Derek’s alpha roar had stopped him in time.

“So what’s your plan for the big night?  Gonna take them out far far far in the woods and let them howl and run their little wolfy hearts out?”

“No, not exactly.”

“What do you mean?”

“I have some chains and shit from the house, I’m going to keep them contained at the train station.”

“I tried that with Scott once and he broke all the chains.”

Derek looked away, “I guess I’ll have to do a better job.”

“Why can’t you take them far away?”

“I don’t know what the kanima will do on the full moon.”

“So?  It kills people on regular nights, I’m guessing it will probably try to kill people.”

“Yeah, so I can’t just go running off in the woods.”

“Well, it isn’t like you’ve done anything to stop it on the other nights so what does it matter, instead you’re just going to what quadruple the number of crazed night creatures in town?”

“Stiles, why do you make everything so impossible?”

“Why am I always right?  Is that what you said?”

“Tell me about the last two murders,” Derek commanded to change the topic.  The sheriff had brought all his papers with him to the station but Stiles had a really good memory.

“All these names are familiar, how old were they?”

“They’re all twenty-three, how old are you sourwolf?”

Derek didn’t respond but he remembered them being, not a gang, a team –but Isaac’s dad was older.  Cameron would have been their age though.  “They’re all local too, maybe if you went through that yearbook you could find something.  I remember they were maybe on a team, they must have had a good season because I didn’t pay a lot of attention to that stuff.”

“Because if they were in a club or something then we could predict who might be targeted next and protect them.”

“And catch the kanima.”

“We don’t have to catch it, we have to cure him.”

They glared at each other for a minute and then tried to change the topic yet again.

“How are you doing with the sentinel stuff?  Have you zoned out since the Jungle?”

Stiles blushed, “just once and you could not have helped me.  I was, um, in the shower and the water droplets were just so cool and I could see all these amazing updrafts in the steam and it was really really interesting.  Until we ran out of hot water, and then I came back to myself pretty quickly.  Not traumatically though.  And my dad didn’t even notice because my showers are usually an hour or two I guess.”

Derek laughed and Stiles was suddenly incredibly pleased with herself for making him laugh.  “I brought you something that might help but probably not in the shower either.”  He reached out the window to where a big bag was sitting on the roof.

Stiles opened it and pulled out a leather jacket, “oh my God I’m really in your pack now aren’t I?  Scott’s going to flip, or maybe he’ll try to buy my affections, except Scott has no money.”

“Try it on Stiles.”  She did and it fit perfectly, it was heavy but not insanely so like Derek’s jacket which weighed forty pounds.  It wasn’t black either, just a nice brown that went with her eyes.  Derek tried not to gloat.

“The reason I get these for the pack, and the reason I have one, is because it’s like a little haven for when things get overwhelming.  The texture, the smell, the weight of it –it’s all really soothing for us.  You can dig your nails into it and it’s safe.”

“I never realized that, but you’re right, it does feel good.  Thank you.”

“That you look like a little bad ass in it is just a bonus.” Derek smiled and smiled harder when Stiles blushed like mad.

“God, I’m a worse dork than ever now.  I have the worst super powers ever and they haven’t even done anything useful yet.  They will probably never do anything useful.”

“I wouldn’t rush to judge.”

“No, you’re supposed to give me an example of how they’ll be useful.  But see, you can’t because they aren’t.”

Derek was casting around for yet another conversational change when Stiles froze.  “Dad’s home,” she announced. 

Derek gave her an impressive eyebrow lift, “you heard it way before I did Super Girl.”

After Derek left Stiles reluctantly hid the jacket in her closet until she could come up with a story about how she had bought it.

 

 

She snuck it to her car the next morning but didn’t dare to wear it yet.  It was strange to be at school after so long but she didn’t let herself dwell on that and get nervous, Lydia had missed more and she looked okay.  Even though she was supposed to go home and she was tired enough to be looking forward to going home Stiles stopped at Lydia and Allison’s lunch table.

Allison jumped up and gave her a little hug, “Stiles, it’s so good to see you.  Scott has been really worried about you.  I mean, I have too, we all have.  You were really sick huh?”

“Yeah, I guess so.   I’m actually heading home now but I wanted to ask a quick favor.  Umm, it’s weird, but if my dad asks can you say that we went out shopping?  I got this new jacket and he’s totally suspicious so I need to come up with how I got it.”

“Where is this jacket?” asked Lydia imperiously.  “We need to see it.”

“It’s in my locker, why do you need to see it?”

“If it’s unflattering or the wrong size your dad won’t believe that we allowed you to buy it.”

“Yeah, because my dad is just like that,” groused Stiles but Lydia was already halfway across the room and heading for Stiles’ locker.

“Oh Stiles, we approve,” said Allison as Stiles twirled half heartedly for them.

“Yes, who did you say bought this for you?” asked Lydia.

“I didn’t say,” replied Stiles catching Erica’s glare from down the hall.

“Hmmm, do you think you could get them to buy you some boots?  You have such nice legs and I know you’ll never do a skirt but if you wore some skinny jeans and knee boots with that jacket; leave off the plaid and you could even wear a t-shirt.”  Lydia never had a lot of time for tact, she was too busy being powerful and all-knowing.

“Not that you aren’t wonderful and perfect already Stiles, but yeah, that would be a cute outfit on you and still very much you,” soothed Allison.

Stiles didn’t really need soothing though, she was thinking about what a good idea boots would be, something she could really kick with that laced up tightly way up her legs.

“So after school today we’ll look for them?” Allison’s mouth was moving.

Stiles shook her head, “what?  I’m sorry what are we looking for?”

“Boots dear, to go with the jacket,” said Lydia apparently typing the date in her phone.

“Oh no, I just wanted you to lie about it, we don’t have to actually go.”

“Really?” asked Allison with a disappointed wrinkle on her forehead.  “It will be fun.”

Stiles stared at her and saw that she really was disappointed, did Allison want to be friends with Stiles, friends beyond friend’s friend status?  And Lydia, Lydia had been almost gentle (for Lydia) when she pointed out the kinds of clothes Stiles could wear with her new jacket.  She was probably staring too much at them, trying to figure out their exact motives when she became aware of the jacket she was still wearing. 

The jacket wasn’t magic or sentient or anything but something about it was enough to snap her out of the zoneshe was sliding towards, guiltily she just nodded to whatever they were saying because now they were both talking and crowding closer to her, oh probably because Stiles was leaning against her locker and looking all pale and sweaty.

She coughed and it rattled nastily in her chest, “umm, not after school though.” She wheezed, totally exhausted, “how about Saturday?”

Scott materialized at her side, he probably heard the cough from the other side of the school.  “That’s enough for one day Stiles, I’ll drive you home now.”

Stiles nodded at him.  She went to peel the jacket off but it was so heavy now and just thinking about it made her tired.  “You can leave it on Stiles, tell your dad that I gave it to you as a get well present.”  Lydia announced patting her shoulder.

Stiles nodded more starting to feel like a bobble head doll.  “Are your books all in your bag?” asked Scott gently.

“Yeah, and if I nod any more I think my head will fall off.”

“Do you want a piggy back ride?” asked Scott with a laugh.  “It’s more dignified than the fireman carry.”

“Dignity, schmignity,” mumbled Stiles lifting her arms.

Allison held her bag until Stiles was positioned like a limpet on Scott’s back and then handed it back with a concerned look.  Lydia had wandered off to her next class so Allison finally got to ask the question she’d been holding in since she saw the jacket.

“Stiles, did Derek give you that jacket?”

Scott seemed to notice the jacket for the first time and he sniffed the arms wrapped around his chest.  “Of course he did,” Scott answered for her unhappily.

“But why?  Did he, did he bite you?” she whispered.

Scott’s eyes flashed amber, “no, nobody is biting Stiles.  Besides she wouldn’t be this sick.”

“Unless she was rejecting it and dying.”

“I wasn’t Allison, don’t worry.  He just thinks of me as pack now, not Scott, just me.  I asked for his help, for his protection and that’s the only way he can give it to me.”

“Stiles!  What were you thinking?” asked Allison scandalized.

“Allison, I have to get Stiles home now so I can be back for my fifth period class.”

“Okay,” said Allison reluctantly, “can I call you later Stiles?”

“Your phone is monitored, but I’ll figure something out.  Don’t worry, it’s not as bad as you think.”  Stiles patted her a little as Scott whisked her out to the Jeep.

“Dude, I can’t believe you didn’t tell her.”

“It’s not my secret to tell Stiles.  Besides with her family I wasn’t in a rush to out you as whatever you are now.  Hmm, you’re not a creature but I wonder if you’re in the bestiary.”

“It would be cool if I was.”

 

The next day Stiles was determined to last until three o’clock, an all-dayer.  She had only spent an hour or so instant messaging Allison the night before telling her about her new powers and how sucky they were compared to the ability to shoot something with a bow and arrows.

It was a pretty good bonding experience for them but it meant that Allison was more excited than ever to go boot shopping. Stiles was also texting her new drag queen friends kind of a lot and they were agreeing with Lydia. Stiles was tempted to share that information with Lydia but she was waiting until she could better predict the result.

Erica was much more predictable, she looked at Stiles’ jacket like it had mortally offended her.  Derek had bought a leather jacket for everyone in his pack and they looked like a pack when they were all together wearing them but none of the jackets were the same.  Erica’s was black with zippers and stuff, Stiles thought it was kind of vampy and she was really relieved that Derek hadn’t bought her the same one.

Isaac’s was more like hers, close fitting and minimalist.  Sort of preppier if a leather jacket could be preppy.  So she wasn’t zoning out but she had spent more than half of her history class thinking about clothes which was probably more than the rest of her life put together.  But she was also thinking about the person who bought them all, did he have a favorite leather shop in the mall?  Did he have a job there as a salesperson and then use his employee discount?

She sort of expected to find the image funny but the thought of Derek surrounded by leather, smelling of leather, standing close helping customers put jackets on, touching their shoulders to see how it fit.  Stiles suddenly hoped he was a leather jacket salesman and that he was on commission too.

What if the store also sold furs?  What if he had to wear a suit and ran his hands over fur all day?  And now her brain was writing a Derek porno in the middle of her history class.  Why did these things always happen to her?  Stiles pulled her jacket closer and tried taking a deep sniff to clear her head, it didn’t work at all.

The class was still too boring to concentrate on so instead she zoned in on Erica her new packmate.  Stiles didn’t think they would ever get along and not just because of the concussion and the dumpster dumping and the couple hundred dollar repair bill that caused her to witness her first murder.  In addition to and on top of all that Erica was pretty keen to not be associated with anyone as embarrassing as Stiles.  Erica was climbing the popularity ladder and nothing was going to drag her back down.

Popularity had always seemed like a side effect to Stiles and not a goal.  If you were nice to people and good at things then you would be popular, not if you said the right things to the right people they would give you popularity.  It was hard for her to explain, but she just never wanted to be ‘the most popular girl in the school’.  Sure she wanted to have friends beyond Scott but that was hard enough.

And now she had a shopping date all scheduled with two of the prettiest and most popular girls and she was not all that excited.  Somehow she didn’t think Erica would be that excited either.  She hoped she wasn’t jealous though.  Now if Stiles went out shopping with Boyd and Isaac, then she would be jealous.  And if she knew how much time she and Derek spent together, that would really send her.

Stiles thought about sharing her Derek as a leather salesman porno idea with her, she thought that Erica would definitely dig it too but she wasn’t keen on sharing it.  Erica would get her vampy little brain cells all over it, Erica would imagine herself as the lady buying a fur.  She couldn’t tell Scott or Allison either because they would just be horrified.  It occurred to Stiles that really the only person she could tell was Derek.  She imagined him smiling and maybe even laughing a little.

As soon as class ended she slipped off to her locker and started texting him, “Just spent history class imagining you as a leather jacket salesguy at the mall.  Working your employee discount.”  She hit send before she could over think anything and then wrote another message.  “I love my jacket, thank you so much.”

She stared at her phone and freaked out for a minute then started grabbing books for her next class.  When her phone pinged twice she almost dropped it.  “You’re welcome,” came through first followed by, “One of those stores that sells fur too and everything is chained down?”

“Let the record show that you brought up the chains first,” Stiles replied and then hurried to her class.  The flirting continued after that class too, apparently Erica found it obnoxious.  She grabbed Stiles phone with her stupid werewolf speed and started reading through the thread.  There was absolutely nothing about anyone else in there, just the two of them going back and forth on the stupid imaginary job.  Stiles had no idea how that could make Erica lose her shit so much.

It got worse when Jackson heard the ruckus and came to see, he grabbed the phone too and Stiles was going to die a hundred thousand deaths, but instead he just laughed and tossed it back to Stiles.  “What’s the matter Erica?” he taunted, “Does Daddy have a new favorite girl?”

Scott had been keeping an ear on Stiles so he came running, Allison followed when she saw him running and then Matt, well Stiles didn’t know what his deal was but somehow Harris sent them all to detention together. 

“Aww, it’s just like the Breakfast Club,” announced Stiles as they trooped into the library.  “Allison you can be Molly Ringwald, I want to be Ally Sheedy so Erica you’re going to have to be Judd Hirsch.”

Allison giggled and Erica snarled that stupid things like that were why nobody liked Stiles.  “Are you going to text that to your boyfriend too?” asked Jackson while Stiles gathered her stuff and moved to another table.

Scott followed her over and smiled, “who was the jock in that?” 

Stiles sighed, “yes, you can be Emilio Estevez.”  Scott pumped his fist and gloated to Jackson. 

Erica asked Allison loudly when she would be bringing Stiles to the bathroom and making her all pretty.  Jackson pointed to Erica and mouthed, ‘daddy issues’.

It was kind of fun until Stiles realized she had to text her dad that she would be home late because of a detention.  This wasn’t going to reassure him that things were on their way back to normal.  Without thinking she pulled the leather jacket in closer and took a discrete sniff, only Erica, Scott, and Allison saw her do it because Matt and Jackson had been sent to get the book carts or something.

Erica seemed to soften a little when she saw Stiles hugging her jacket, but she was still pissed off at Jackson.  “He’s one to talk about daddy issues.  His daddy issues have daddy issues.”

“What do you mean?” asked Allison.

“Jackson is adopted, his birth parents were killed in a car accident and he was delivered by Caesarean.”

“And his mother was like…” Stiles made a vague hand gesture which could have meant toast.

Erica nodded, “my dad was the insurance agent on the case, he said Jackson gets another boatload of money when he turns eighteen.”

“A boatload?” asked Scott.

“Yup,” confirmed Erica.  “I don’t get his poor little rich kid act at all.  He’s good looking, he was already athletic and healthy, his parents like him enough to buy him a Porsche…”

“I know,” agreed Stiles, “if you list it all out he seems like he should be awesome but he isn’t.  He really, really isn’t.”

“I’m glad Derek didn’t buy him a jacket,” sniffed Erica looking at Stiles.

“Yeah, but I was thinking about it and what if Derek had bought him like a leather Member’s Only jacket and then he had to wear it?”

Erica looked immediately intrigued, “and it was a light blue to match his eyes?”  Even Allison had to snort a little at that image.

Stiles felt a little guilty for teasing Jackson like that after he had sort of defended her, she wondered how long it took to get a book cart and then tried to listen for Matt and Jackson.  It was risky because she sucked at this sort of thing but Scott was nearby.

The first thing she heard was a slithering sound, like a long reptilian tail being dragged across linoleum.  “Shit,” she said standing up and looking around. 

Things went to shit pretty fast after that but once she was in the back of the Jeep with a messed up Erica on her lap having a seizure while paralyzed, Stiles just had to finish the conversation, “hey Erica,” she whispered, “what if Derek bought him a light blue Member’s Only _snakeskin_ jacket?”

Erica jerked around and gurgled a little harder but her eyes were totally laughing.


	4. Raving

“I don’t understand Scott, please explain to me again why Allison is going to this party thing with Matt?” Stiles knew she was being an ass but some things were worth being an ass about, they were alone in her Jeep and she was driving him home from lacrosse practice.  (Lacrosse practice was awesome by the way when you were excused from all the running parts.)

“Allison’s mom threatened me so we’re going to lay low and this will be a good distraction for her mom.”

“Okay first, Allison’s mom is like in her forties, possibly late forties, and you are a werewolf in the prime of your life.  And second, subterfuge is good but why did you tell her to kiss him?  That’s like pimp action there, and also gross.”

“Was it too far?” asked Scott sheepishly.

“Way way way too far.”

“I got excited about the plan,” explained Scott.

“Of course you did, that’s why I’m the planner.  But this is easy, text her or I don’t know however you guys communicate –is it morse code? Anyway let her know that you totally regret pimping her out and you have felt horrible ever since and you can’t bear it.  Beg and use the puppy eyes, it’s that bad Scott.”

“Really?”

Stiles just nodded and wished she could fix her own problems with puppy eyes.

They were all supposed to be going to the rave but Stiles was having a little trouble sneaking out for it.  Her dad didn’t know of course but if he did he would be completely against her going, Scott was completely against it and Derek was completely against it. Dr. Deaton was for it though, he had given them some kind of vet medicine that might put the kanima to sleep but he had given Stiles the mountain ash ashes that could (almost) definitely be used to trap it.

“No see,” Stiles had expounded when they were all gathered at the vet’s office, “I have been watching Supernatural for years now, I know all the tricks you can pull with salt –or ash- circles and I will be totally safe.  Because see, I’ll be able to leave the circle but the kanima won’t.”

“What if,” growled Derek, “just by chance, what if this is the sort of rave that has excruciatingly loud music, lots of flashing lights and the sweat of a hundred young bodies stinking it up?  What would happen to you then?”

“I could cycle,” improvised Stiles because that was a good argument, “when I see myself being overwhelmed by the noise I’ll look at the lights and then I’ll go to stink and then back to the noise.  My short attention span will work for me this time.”

“The trouble is,” said Scott because they were teaming up against her, “you don’t know when you’re being overwhelmed.  It creeps up on you like when we were in the cafeteria the other day and you sniffed the meatloaf for ten minutes and I couldn’t get your attention to get you to stop until I poured all that pepper on it.”

“Don’t do that again!” snapped Stiles, her eyes watering at the memory.  “Not that I was going to eat it after that anyway.  Paleo is our friend right Derek?

Listen, unless you chain me down or something you know I will sneak out and be there.” Stiles thought that would settle it.

 

They played right into my hands she smirked to herself on rave night, Derek had handcuffed her to the bed in her room.  He used a thin chain and locked her ankle to the bottom bed post so there was a fighting chance that the sheriff wouldn’t notice.

Stiles had kept a lock pick kit in her bedside table since she was eight and was out in five seconds flat which was a new record because she found an actual useful aspect of her new superpowers.  Stiles was pretty sure she could pick anything now, like even a safe.  She made a memo to herself to test herself on the safe in her dad’s office sometime soon.

The worst part about everyone forbidding her from going was that she couldn’t ask anyone what to wear.  She pulled on a pair of black jeans, laced up her new boots, picked out her cleanest Batman t-shirt and then grabbed her new jacket.  She almost left it at that but then she remembered the stupid Molly Ringwald/Ally Sheedy scene in the bathroom and spent too much time trying to put on eyeliner and mascara.  It’s okay if it’s too much she told herself in the mirror, it’s a rave and too much is just enough.   Her dad was back at work so she could even take her Jeep.

The place was so loud it looked like the building was throbbing.  There were probably two hundred sweaty young bodies writhing under the flashing lights, Stiles walked straight through them to Scott.  Sometimes, tonight so far especially, she loved her new super powers.  “Sup, Scotty?” she asked stealing a sip from his red Solo cup.

“Hey Stiles, I told him not to chain you.”

“Yeah but you didn’t tell him about the lock pick kit did you?”

Scott smiled and Stiles threw her arms around his neck, laughing and loving him.

“I think the secret for tonight is going to be keeping me busy.  I see Allison and Matt are over there, Derek and the pack are lurking above us, the potential victim is spinning the tunes, but the million dollar question would be where is Jackson.”  Stiles felt like she was maybe talking too fast but it was super crazy in there.

“We don’t know, I think you’re the best at tracking him.  How did you do it last time?  I can never smell him.”

“I listened for the sound of his tail dragging on the ground, which won’t work if he’s in the rafters again.  That time I just thought about it but then I had to look hard to see him in the shadows.”

“Can you see him now?  Look hard, I’ll stand guard.”  Scott promised but he was already glancing away at where Allison seemed to be exchanging terse words with Matt.

“Are you sure about that?” asked Stiles but she was already looking hard.  It was such a relief to look really hard at something so dark and interesting; all the noise disappeared, all the smell went with it, the flashing lights were just at the edge of her vision.  It was so satisfying, especially when she found him.

She noticed that Derek was staring at her so she pointed and had the bonus satisfaction of the pack springing into motion based on her super powers.  She turned to Scott to share the joy and was a little surprised to see him looking ashen.

“What?” she asked, her joy fading.

“Stiles, that took you fifteen minutes.  Fifteen long minutes where you couldn’t hear anything I said, you didn’t react to me touching you and I could hear your heart rate slowing down as it went on and on.”

“Huh, but I found him and then I woke myself up.  That was good.  And I showed the pack where he was and they all ran off, so we’re like done now aren’t we?”  Stiles stole another sip and was bummed to find that it was all melted ice now.

“The dj went on break a little while ago, not that you noticed.  We should probably go guard her or something.”

“She’s either outside or behind that partition over there.”  Stiles decided, like a boss.  “Should we split up and look?”

Scott gave her an exceedingly alarmed look and shook his head violently no.  Stiles started to lead him across the floor and then she stopped and started heading for Allison.

“Stiles, what are you doing?  I’m supposed to be not dating her.” 

“I know, don’t worry; we’re asking her non-dating questions.”

Allison’s eyes bugged out when she saw Stiles but she passed it off to Matt as surprise that Scott and Stiles were out on a date together.  Scott made his usual ‘that’s gross’ face which he made every single time anyone ever mentioned Scott and Stiles as a couple.

Stiles waved it all off and leaned in close to Allison’s ear, it was really freaking loud and a reasonable action if you wanted the other party to hear you.  “Do you know how many hunters are here, where they are and what they are planning to do?”

Allison shook her head, “I know they’re here but not any of the rest.  Sorry.”

“Are they here for just the kanima or will they shoot at anything with claws?”

“Probably anything.” Allison confessed.

“That’s bullshit, it’s discrimination.  Dammit, now I wish I had worn my X-Men shirt; [we’re the mutants and you’re the Strykers](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/X-Men:_God_Loves,_Man_Kills)!”

“Stiles, I don’t know what that means,” insisted Allison.

“Nothing good,” grumbled Stiles.  “Come on Scotty, we have oppressors to drag into the harsh light of public opinion.”

She dragged him off with one arm on his sleeve and her other hand digging out her cell phone.  She mumbled into the phone for a few minutes and Scott could only make out every other word.  She dragged him right out the door and to the parking lot which was overflowing with vehicles, but even so the big black SUV’s parked together were very obvious.

She stomped right up to the SUV’s and sniffed, Scott sniffed too and then started sneezing.  “Wolfsbane, huh?” Stiles laughed, “that makes me very sure that these are the hunter-mobiles, not that there was a lot of doubt before.”

She walked around to the far side of the car and pointed to a tire, “pop it baby,” she ordered.  Scott did a cool move where he flipped out his hand and the claws appeared, Stiles rolled her eyes but he could tell she thought it was cool, and then he started slashing.

In a shady corner of the parking lot Scott could just make out Isaac talking to the dj.  He had his head down, the sodium glow of the street lights was shining softly on his curls.  “I thought I recognized you from Cam’s year.  Yeah, I’m little Isaac not so little huh?”

“So she’s under guard,” he murmured.  “Are Derek and the rest still tailing the kanima?”

“Hopefully,” said Stiles as she pulled out her phone but then she put it away again.  “These people paid a lot of money to dance tonight, it seems a shame to call the cops this early doesn’t it?”

“Why would you call the cops?” asked Scott.

Stiles made big sad eyes at him, “Scott I saw a guy here who looked too old to be a raver and he moved his arm and he had a gun, and then I saw him talking to another guy and he had a gun too.  Daddy there are strange men with guns at this rave!  But no rush Daddy because they’re the ones changing their tires.”

“Are you really going to say that?” asked Scott skeptically.

“No, I was thinking of just taking a picture and sending it to him asking if they had any sketches of the serial killer yet.  It’s much more in character don’t you think?”

“He’ll be pissed that you’re here.”

“Yeah but we can get like six hunters busted for concealed weapons, probably worse if they have shit in the cars.  I’ll take the hit for that kind of return.”

“You’re so noble.”

“Yeah, I try.  Let’s go find someone so I can get that picture.”

They set off for the balcony, because it made sense for the people with guns to be up there where the sightlines were better.

 

“Good thing we were using gender neutral nouns Scott,” said Stiles as Allison’s mom pointed a gun at them.  She looked at Scott and Allison’s mom turned to look at Scott too so Stiles took a quick picture and sent it to her dad.  How fortuitous that she had a text message to him open and the camera ready.

“Stiles isn’t a werewolf Mrs. Argent,” said Scott, “and also her dad is the sheriff.”

“I guess I would be more worried if there wasn’t a serial killer on the loose to take the blame Scott.”

“What, you mean you?” asked Stiles.

“Stiles is it?  What a tragic name for a tragic-looking girl.  Stiles be a dear and throw your phone over the side there,” she stepped closer to Scott with the gun and Stiles tossed her phone.

“Good, now Scott and I are going to step into this room here and have a private conversation.  You can wait right here for us.”  She herded Scott into the room just up ahead and off to the side of the balcony, there was a clanging sound as the metal door slammed shut and a snikt as it was locked from inside.

Stiles flew to the door and tried to bang on it but there was so much noise, she froze as the smell of wolfsbane started pouring out.  She scrambled for the lock but it was bolted from the inside, there was no keyhole to pick.  She pounded on it again and wanted to call Derek but her phone was gone.  And then, the sweetest sound, well maybe not the sweetest but anyway, from inside the room she heard Scott howl.  So in and of itself howling in distress like that was pretty bad but surely Derek would hear it and come.

The Argents thought that Scott was an omega, a lone wolf, they didn’t realize that werewolves were human too and things could be complicated and messy.  That you could refuse to join a pack and not automatically become that pack’s enemy, that you could stay friends and allies.

Derek appeared like an avenging angel in black leather and Stiles stepped away from the door.  He kicked it in and Stiles was right behind him as they stormed in.  Derek went for Mrs. Argent but Stiles grabbed his arm, “no,” she ordered, “get Scott out, the vapors are killing him.”  Derek must have been dazed too because he obeyed.

Stiles herself picked up the whole bong vaporizer thing, and oh my god did Allison’s mother buy that in some creepy smoke shop, and tossed it through the filthy glass window.  “I hope it landed on your car bitch,” she taunted.

Mrs. Argent was pissed, super mega pissed, she swung out with her gun hand and clocked Stiles across the head with it.  Stiles dropped like a box of rocks.  Victoria Argent walked over to the window to see if the vaporizer had landed on a car and noticed the sirens approaching.  There was only time for one kick on her way out.

 

Sheriff Stilinski was questioning Derek Hale who was carrying an unconscious and wheezing Scott McCall.  He needed to call an ambulance for Scott but he needed to find Stiles too.  He was just working himself up to really frantic when Mrs. Argent swept by him with Allison.  The sheriff had his head turned towards the warehouse that he was probably going to have to raid by himself when Allison jolted to a stop with a noise and her mom said something curt to her.

The sheriff turned and there was the bitch that had been pointing a gun at his daughter.  His hand was wrapped around her arm tighter than he wanted to admit before he could think.  “Well hello there,” he said.  “I’m Sheriff Stilinski and I heard that my daughter Stiles is in there.  We’d like to get her out here so we can take Scott to the hospital, have you seen her?”

“What’s wrong with Scott?” asked Allison who was now holding his hand, Derek had laid him out on the hood of a car and was trying to slide off into the darkness, this was all very interesting but where was Stiles?

The sheriff called Stiles phone and Derek thought he heard it ringing from inside but there was no answer.  “Sir,” his mouth opened without his permission, was Stiles contagious or something.  “I can go in and find Stiles for you, bring her out here while you wait for an ambulance or back up.”

The sheriff looked at him very suspiciously but he had no other choice and nothing really to lose.  Melissa would kill him if he left Scott alone now and he was damned if he was letting that Argent lady go, she gave him the willies which when added to the picture Stiles had sent him gave him all the just cause he needed.

“Alright, go ahead Derek.  I’ll be in too as soon as I can,” as Derek ran off he turned to the girl, “you wouldn’t happen to be Allison Argent and Mrs. Argent?”  Allison was nodding and he went on to ask about Scott’s inhaler which wasn’t in any of his pockets.  Stiles used to carry a spare but Allison didn’t even know he had asthma.

 

Derek tried not to run while the sheriff was close, he didn’t really want him to know how his heart was pounding with worry.  But once he was inside he did run to the room where Scott had been, the door now hanging dejectedly on the hinges he had mostly ripped from the wall, and there she was sprawled out on the floor with an ugly gash going up into her hair and the blood just starting to clot. 

Derek barely even registered when he started to wolf out and it was harder to pull it back than it had been in a long time, his mouth was too full of teeth and all he could do was clamp them together harder.  But he calmed himself by listening, her heart was strong and steady, her breathing seemed okay only a faint rattle from the pneumonia she was mostly over.  The wolfsbane had cleared out well, probably because Stiles had smashed the window open by throwing that bong-thing through it.  Just thinking about that, that trap, had his wolf starting up again.

He shook himself and then looked around for something he could use to stop the blood.  Humans were way too fragile.

Derek hoisted her up higher on his shoulder so he could pick the phone up off the floor, the corner of the screen had a little star pattern in it but it seemed okay.  He swiped it open and saw one missed call from ‘Daddy Po-Po’, it was so stupid and so Stiles that it made his stomach clench with emotion.  The next thing that popped up was her recent messages and he saw the picture of Mrs. Argent pointing a gun at the camera.  Mrs. Argent looked completely insane in the picture and he hoped desperately that the sheriff would be able to arrest her for something tonight. 

He slipped the phone back in Stiles pocket, not purring or preening at all that she was wearing the jacket he had bought for her.  And then slowly walked back out to where the sheriff, and it sounded like an ambulance too now, were waiting, slowly because he knew as soon as he got there he was going to have to let her go.

 

The sheriff hadn’t always been the sheriff of a podunk little county like Beacon Hills, he recognized a pistol whipping wound when he saw one and seeing one on his little girl did something terrible to him.  Something cold and malicious and terrible.  He turned to Mrs. Argent and pulled out his badge and his gun in one smooth motion, “Mrs. Argent, you’re under arrest for assault on a minor.  Could you empty your pockets please?”

The gun was in her expensive handbag and Allison threw up when she saw the hair and blood still stuck to it.  The sheriff kind of wanted to throw up too.  Instead he bundled Allison off in the ambulance with Scott and Stiles, called Melissa and braced himself for a long night.

 

Boyd and Erica lost track of the kanima eventually but  Isaac was able to keep the dj lady safe.  The hunters got away too because the sheriff didn’t know about them and he was too distracted to notice them changing their tires.  Stiles was pissed about that and deeply conflicted about Mrs. Argent being arrested.

Erica, whom Stiles was actually starting to like now, started the rumor at school that Mrs. Argent heard that Scott had dumped Allison for Stiles and she went crazy and tried to kill them both.  It was the best story that anyone could come up with and Stiles and Scott were forced to go with it in their statements.  They said that she surprised them and threatened them with the gun then hit Stiles, Scott went to get help but he was so upset that he had an asthma attack and that was when Derek found him and brought him outside for fresh air.

“Yer, a hero Derek,” crowed Stiles when he snuck into her room.  Derek snarled because his pack had a jagged scar that was barely healing (in his opinion) and bruises all over.

“Whoa there puppy, I’m guessing you have some serious sniffing you need to do now,” she was scrambling to sit up in her bed but it was hard because her ribs were sore and her head felt like it was going to fall off her neck.

Derek knew that the sheriff was home but the sheriff probably wasn’t going to be going out any time soon and he couldn’t wait any longer.  He locked her bedroom door, it would give him enough time to hide or leave if the sheriff knocked.  Then he kicked his boots under her bed again and climbed up next to her his hands already reaching out to take away her pain.

When he was done with that Stiles felt that massive lethargy come over her but Derek was still agitated.  He pulled up her shirt and sniffed her side carefully, his nose and snuffling tickling her.  “It’s just bruised, nothing’s cracked or anything.  She had stupid pointy shoes on but they weren’t heavy enough to really hurt me.”

Derek growled over the really hurting part and then stopped himself from licking.  He moved up to her head wound and his eyes flashed red.  He sniffed carefully, his fingers gently brushing her short hair away.  “Stiles,” he started and it sounded like teeth again.

“Yeah Derek?” she whispered.

“Can I, I have to, I really need to lick this.  I’ll wash it again after but…”

“Um, sure, that’s kind of gross but whatever.  There are some stitches and stuff but you’ve probably noticed them already.”  Stiles stopped rambling when Derek started licking her head.  He eased her back down onto her pillow and slid down next to her, she swore she could hear his chest rumbling as her eyes closed.

He wasn’t slurping her like those slobbery dog kisses she got from the sheriff department German Shepherds, it was more like a cat might do, precise gentle little laps.  They were very regular and rhythmic and she found herself relaxing under them.  Derek trailed his fingertips down the other side of her face and a little more of the ache left her, he whispered in her ear, “go to sleep Stiles,” and she did.

Derek heard the sheriff coming up with enough time to unlock the door and hide in the closet.  Afterwards he made himself leave.

 

Breakfast was shitty and not just because the sheriff burned the bacon and Stiles had the worst headache of her life.  “You never mentioned you were going to an illegal rave that cost $75 per ticket.”

“It was kind of a last minute thing, Isaac gave us the tickets.  Scott was feeling sad because Allison was going with Matt and I thought we could go together and, you know, spy on them in a non-creepy but more like pathetic way.”

“You’re so noble.”

“I don’t think I could have predicted last night,” protested Stiles.

“No,” agreed the sheriff, “I don’t think anyone could have predicted that.  Victoria Argent is, well, I’m not sure I have words.”

Stiles felt herself tearing up and brushed her eyes angrily.  “She called me mean names too, I really want to hate her but Allison is so nice and I know how hard it can be to have something happen to your mom and I can’t wish that on anyone.  But, but, what the hell?”

The sheriff was shoving Stiles face onto his shoulder, not even being careful that it was her unbruised side.  “You did so good sweetheart, I’m so proud of how you got that picture of her.  You’re a ninja with that phone.”

“Thanks dad, I was going to send you a message so you knew where I was and my phone was open to that screen, otherwise I don’t know what we would have done.”

“Derek Hale seemed to have it pretty well in hand,” observed the sheriff unsubtly.

“I don’t know, I wasn’t really aware,” said Stiles and even that was a lie.

The sheriff just sort of grunted at that, it was an old cop habit for when you didn’t want to lead the witness one way or the other.  He hadn’t used it with Stiles much because she was usually pretty forthcoming, once upon a time.  He squeezed her tighter wondering what in the hell was going on.

Scott and his mother came over later that morning, Melissa fussed over Stiles stitches with Bacitracin and a mother’s worry.  Scott just looked guilty, actually Melissa looked guilty too.

She sat at the kitchen table and chugged coffee while telling everyone how she had just spoken to Victoria at the school last week.  “She won’t be allowed to work there again will she?”

“No,” said the sheriff, “not with her record now.” 

“Allison’s grandfather is the principal, I doubt he ran a background check on her before he hired her,” said Scott.

“Grandpa Argent is actually creepier than Mrs. Argent,” said Stiles solemnly.

 “Truth,” said Scott.

“I’m afraid I have to back them up on this, that guy is really creepy,” agreed Mrs. McCall.

“And you can’t imagine how many cameras he has installed in the school, they’re everywhere.  Even in the locker rooms, he probably pervs out on watching the girls change.”

The sheriff was shaking his head, it looked like he wanted to stick his fingers in his ears and not hear any of it.  But because he was Big Daddy Po-Po he promised them that he would stop by the school and speak with the principal, “I’ll tell him that if he insists on hiring his daughter-in-law to work at the school again I will insist on swearing out a formal restraining order.”

“Sweet,” said Stiles, “can Scott get one too?”

“Scott doesn’t need one,” insisted Scott.  “Because that would mean I can’t go to Allison’s house anymore.  And also, she’ll probably dump me if I do that; I would dump me if I did that.”

“And yet,” drawled Stiles gesturing to her face which was pretty horrific that morning with the swelling and the stitches and the bruising, “this isn’t enough to dump that busload of crazy?”

“Sorry,” shrugged Scott, “I feel like I need to talk to her before I decide anything.”

There was a lull because nobody really felt like responding to that.  Scott felt bad though so he started kicking Stiles under the table and eventually they started a slap fight.

“I can’t believe Victoria Argent thought you two were dating,” said the sheriff.

Melissa smiled, “I can’t believe she beat up poor Stiles to keep Scott all for her own daughter.”

 

Afterwards when Stiles was laying on the couch communing with some ice packs Scott sprawled on the floor next to her and asked if she had figured out how to tell if people were lying yet.  “Whuzzat?” asked Stiles, surprised, “were they lying to us?”

“What, this morning?  No, they weren’t.  Just in general, it’s awesome at school –with teachers…”

“What do you do?” asked Stiles suddenly needing to add that skill.

“I listen for their heartbeat, it speeds up usually.  But you could also check to see if they start to sweat and stuff.”

“Oh god, the last thing I need is to zone out on Finstock’s pores, that’s too disgusting to imagine.”  She started to giggle but choked it off when it made the bruise on her side twinge.  “Hanging with werewolves sucks big dogs.”

“Stiles…” Scott whined, “you don’t know how much it sucks from this end too.  Every instinct I have screams at me to protect you and it’s just epic fail after epic fail and this horror that it’s going to end; end with you ending.

Has Derek seen your face this morning?”

“No, but he licked it last night.  He was wolfing out over it and he promised he’d wash it after so I let him.”

“I wish you hadn’t said that,” said Scott because now his eyes were glowing.

“Shit,” said Stiles peeking at him from under her ice pack.  “Let’s go upstairs, I don’t know when my dad will be back.”

 

Scott’s tongue felt softer and rounder and Stiles wanted to die for knowing there was a difference like that between them.  Instead she closed her eyes and let it lull her to sleep again.

That was how Derek found them a few seconds later and Scott would have almost preferred it was the sheriff.  He had wolfed out and was enjoying the licking more than he thought he would, it made something rumble deep in his chest to take care of his pack like this.  It felt like he was helping, like he was doing something.  But then Derek slid in the window and the rumble became an even deeper growl.

Derek saw Scott’s eyes flash red for just a second and took a step back with his hands up.  If he wasn’t a born wolf that had grown up fighting instincts he probably would have wolfed out right back.  He didn’t like seeing Scott taking care of his pack member, even if she was as much neither of theirs as she was both of theirs.  He forced himself to even put his hands in his pockets and lean against the farthest wall, “feels good doesn’t it?” he asked.  “She needs so much taking care of and it’s so satisfying to provide for her.”

“It would be better if she stopped getting hurt,” Scott snarled through his fangs but then he shook it off and he was entirely human when he rested his hand on her head and drew off the pain.

“I chained her up,” protested Derek.

“She’s been picking locks since she was eight, she told me she’s even better at it now with her new abilities.  She said it was crazy easy to feel the tumblers and whatever, she legit wants to rob a bank now.”

“Of course she does,” sighed Derek.  “What the hell are we going to do?”

“I don’t know,” said Scott pulling his hand away.

“No, don’t.  Keep touching her, it makes her sleep deeper and that way she won’t wake up to find us discussing her life.”

Scott put his hand back, “I’m not sure if I want you to tell me how you figured that out.”

“It was when the pneumonia was really bad, she couldn’t sleep so I stayed.”

“The whole night?” asked Scott.  Drawing off sharp pain hurt sharply but for a brief amount of time, drawing off aches and discomfort if that’s what he was doing now felt different, it almost felt as if he was drawing off the accumulation of her days –making her younger and making himself older and achier, he hoped that faded too.

“Do werewolves get old?” he asked.

“Yes, but it’s pretty slow, we can live a long time.”

“How long?” asked Scott.

“Too long sometimes, long enough to see everyone die.”

“Did you know about Peter?”

“What about my uncle?  That he killed my sister, that he bit you?”

“Sorry, did you know that he kidnapped Stiles and offered her the bite?”

Derek’s eyes flashed red and he growled.

“I guess that’s a no.  It was the night he attacked Lydia, that night.  She said he took her trying to find out where you were.  And he offered the bite but she said no thank you and that was that.  I always thought that he just took what he wanted without asking.”

“Why didn’t she tell me?”

“I asked that too and she said because she killed him that night so it seemed like it was done.”

Derek ran his hands through his hair and walked over to the side of the bed.  “If he had…”

“I know; if he had then it wouldn’t be your responsibility and she would be strong and healthy instead of so weak and fragile.  But he didn’t.”


	5. Party Guessed

Stiles had one of those silly _‘I Survived Spring Break’_ shirts but even though it was spring break and she was still alive it felt like too soon to wear it.  Or maybe like it was tempting something she would rather just leave alone.

Whatever little girly friendship thing she had tentatively started with Lydia and Allison was pretty much over now.  Poor Allison couldn’t look at Stiles, which Stiles totally understood because she was in the really unattractive phase of healing.  And she didn’t want to come between a girl and her mom.

When Erica first saw the damage she went all yellow-eyed and growly and Stiles enjoyed smacking her down for doing the same thing a few weeks before.  Which made Isaac, who was standing nearby, go all yellow-eyed and growly too and then Derek had to come and yell at everybody.  So whatever pack friendship she had tentatively started with them was on pause too.

And the sheriff was working harder than ever because Beacon Hills was now some sort of crimeville.  Stiles flopped herself down on Scott’s bed.  “I tried Scott,” she whined, “I tried making new friends but it just isn’t in the cards for me.”

“Give them some time; you’re like an acquired taste.  But once they get used to you everyone else will be boring.”  Scott was actually working on his homework over spring break but only because he was in danger of failing two classes and his mom was having kittens over it.

“At least I’m still invited to Lydia’s party, insofar as nobody is invited to Lydia’s party and we’re all supposed to just know to attend.”

“Mmmhm,” said Scott because he was really trying to do homework.

“But why the H-E-double-hockey-sticks does her party have to be on the night of the full moon?”

 

Stiles was so bored she bought a dress for the party, it was red of course because she found that hilarious.  She walked through the shoe department on her way out of the store but decided that the new boots would go well enough, plus she wanted to be able to run and kick on the night of the full moon.  It was sad that these things were important to her now.

She put foundation on and fussed with her makeup that night too.  She kind of had to because the bruising and all was still pretty ugly although Mrs. McCall kept going on about how quickly and cleanly it was healing and how there would be barely any scar at all.  Stiles spent an afternoon designing packaging for _‘Grandma Hale’s Werewolf Spit Heal-All’_ and thoroughly enjoyed presenting Derek with an empty bottle for him to drool into.

He made the best faces for her now; it was almost like he came over just to see how she would make him almost laugh.  Stiles hadn’t been back to the train station since the last time she almost made a huge werewolf fight break out so Derek came by almost every day to check on her and occasionally to drag her out to the woods for practice sensing things.

Sometimes after practice he brought her to a diner too so she could get better at eating challenging foods.  The more ingredients something had in it and the longer it was cooked and everything got mixed up the more it bothered her.  Not that it bothered her as much as it bothered Derek, “you’re too young and too skinny to spend the rest of your life eating freaking paleo,” he growled.

Stiles decided that the dress didn’t make her look too skinny, it was just that Derek had a thing for meaty girls.  And that thought was hotter than it should have been.  She wondered if she would even be seeing Derek tonight, he was still planning on chaining up his betas for their first full moon so she seriously hoped their paths would not cross.  She figured they would anyway, but she hoped not.

Stiles was still bored so she dragged Scott to Lydia’s house kind of early but it was empty and dead there.  Lydia was alarmingly spacey but when Allison showed up she freaked out too about the lack of people.  While Lydia fussed with the punch or something it was hilariously up to Scott (former asthmatic dweeb but now lacrosse co-captain so not too shabby), Stiles (battered child and ADHD spaz), and Allison (I heard her aunt was a serial killer and now her mother has been arrested for assault) to pull together their pathetic social ties and get people to Lydia’s party.

Scott called the lacrosse team and Stiles called her drag queen friends.  Stiles tried not to listen to who Allison was calling, she just hoped it wasn’t Matt.

Of course Matt showed up eventually so she probably did call him.  Whatever, at least there were people now Stiles figured.  Basking just a little in their good deed and enjoying having the drag queens around again it was a while before Stiles ran into Scott at the punch bowl.  She violently knocked the plastic cup out of Scott’s hand and if she was a werewolf her eyes would have been flashing a different color.

“What the hell Stiles?  It’s not like I can get drunk,” hissed Scott peeved that sticky punch was all over his jeans.

“Did you smell it Scott?  Do you know what’s in it?”

Scott shrugged and gave a sniff, “I don’t know.  How can you tell?”

Stiles gave a delicate sniff, “it’s pomegranate juice, Seven-Up, vodka –probably Stohli, and mother fucking wolfsbane flowers.” She ended in a screech pointing at the blue flowers floating all over the bowl.

“What? Oh, and they’re bad?  I mean yeah, of course they are.  That’s what Mrs. Argent was poisoning me with right?”

“Sometimes I think about just killing you myself to save on the stress,” mumbled Stiles as she stuck her fingers in the bowl and picked out every single flower.  More than one person coming up for a refill froze completely at the sight of her with her hands in the punch but she just sneered at them, “these aren’t organic flowers, plus they clash with the color scheme, and the vodka will kill whatever germs I’m spreading.  And if that isn’t enough for you I’m sure there’s some tap water in the kitchen.”

When she was done she wiped her fingers off on Scott’s pants.  He looked at her and she glared right back, “what? They’re already dirty and this dress is awesome.”

Scott just shrugged, defeated.

“So I’m realizing now that Lydia has been smelling of wolfsbane off and on for a while now.  I wonder if it’s some kind of brilliant but wrong attempt to drive away werewolves.  Because obviously it doesn’t work on all of you...

Maybe you should go talk to Allison and see if she talked to Lydia about it.  You don’t think Allison would have told her to put those flowers in the punch?”

“No, I really don’t.  But I also don’t think it was done randomly.  We know the kanima has someone pulling his strings, if someone is pulling Lydia’s wouldn’t it have to be Peter?” asked Scott.

“Peter’s dead,” replied Stiles scooping up a glass of punch.  Scott looked longingly at her beverage.  “Shoo, go, werewolves can’t drunk anyway.  Go find some tap water, or a toilet.  Bad doggy!”

“Stiles, that was across the line sister, too rude.”

“Scott, you almost just drank poison and the poison was FLOATING on TOP of the drink.  Go find a clue somewhere.”

“Sorry Stiles, I didn’t realize that was your _'I’m frightened by how much I love you'_ snark.”

“Her what?” asked Jackson who had just rolled in all crisp and clean.

“Hey Jackson, would you like some punch?” asked Stiles while Scott growled and was shooed away.

“Punch? From Lydia?  No thank you,” replied Jackson pulling a douchey little flask out of his back pocket and taking a long pull.  Stiles was pretty sure he took such a long drink on purpose so she could see his neck all stretched out and swallowing.

“So, to what do I owe the pleasure?  Normally you pretend I’m invisible,” she asked when he didn't leave immediately.

“Normally I sort of wish you were invisible but tonight you look very nice.  The boots are probably not what Lydia would have chosen but I imagine it’s easier to run in them than whatever Lydia would choose.”

“They also have superior kicking action, I’m flattered that you noticed.”

“Yeah well, what was Scott saying when I arrived?” asked Jackson and then he swept off again while her mouth was still open and her stomach started jumping around.

 

She wanted to discuss that parting shot but when she looked around for witnesses she only saw Lydia.  Lydia didn’t move to scratch out her eyes so she assumed she wasn’t paying attention, Stiles glanced down and saw the pile of mangled flowers that she had fished out of the punch with her fingers.  She swept them into her empty cup and strolled off as casually as she could.

When she found a secluded spot she tried to call Derek just because she was wondering how his night was going and to see what he thought about the spiked punch.  Derek literally growled instead of saying hello, but it was a greeting sort of growl, it sounded a lot like a ‘what?’

“Grrr, to you too.  I was just checking in on your night, how are the kids?  I put together a bag of snacks to keep you all on an even blood sugar level but you didn’t come by so I could give it to you.”

“Blood sugar isn’t really the issue, I think you were probably right about the chains not being enough.”

“Shit, what are you going to do?”

“I’ll keep them busy here I guess, keep them engaged.”

“What does that mean?  As their chew toy?” demanded Stiles.

Derek had no response, “Oh, that’s exactly what you meant isn’t it?  Jesus Derek, think of yourself sometimes.”

“Really Stiles, you’re going to give me that?  I will heal and be perfectly fine by tomorrow.”

“And tonight?  How much pain will you suffer tonight?”

“As much as I need to.”

“Great, I hope it helps then.  Just keep atoning you, you bastard,” and she viciously jabbed the end button which sucked compared to slamming a flip phone closed which sucked compared to slamming down a real phone.  Jesus, what were kids going to do in the future when they had infuriating phone conversations?

“I snark because I’m frightened by how much I love you,” teased Jackson.  “We could get a t-shirt made for you.”

“Fuck you Jackson.” Growled Stiles and she set off to find a real man, the drag queens were still here somewhere.

 

The only supernatural thing about the queens was how awesome they were.  They cooed over Stiles dress and her new boots and politely didn’t say anything about how they might not have combined the two themselves.  They also had their own booze and shared their little daiquiri Capri Suns with her; the drinks were thick and slushy and the straw they came with was ridiculous.  But that was pretty much the only reason they bought them, to watch each other try to drink them.

“You guys are awesome,” slurred Stiles with her mouth stained bright bright red and her cheeks aching.  “We should give Lydia one of these, it would be fun to watch her drink it.”

“Oh, still confused Stiles?” someone asked sympathetically.

“Very confused,” she affirmed having no idea what they were talking about.

Jackson found her again then and there was a rush to get him a daiquiri.  Stiles found herself wanting to watch too.  After he was done torturing everyone in sight, Danny clapped the loudest, Jackson blushed and asked Stiles if she wanted to go for a walk or something.

Stiles was a little too buzzed to be as suspicious as she would normally be and also six people pushed her closer to him so she shrugged and followed him out to the garden.  “I like the way you picked red for tonight Stiles, with the full moon and everything.”

“I live to amuse,” she admitted.

“Are you frightened of that too?” Jackson asked softly.

“Of what?”

“Of being something other than this character you’ve built?  Of being pretty?  Popular? Serious?”

“No, I’m not scared of those things, but I’m also not going to sit around waiting for them to happen.”

“No, you’re not much for sitting around either are you, not with those boots.”

Something in Stiles head, some little voice way in the back was jumping up and down and screaming that he was flirting with her.  After all these years and all that crushing he was actually flirting with her.  It was inconceivable, it was incredible, it had to be a trick.

“Is this a trick or something Jackson?” asked Stiles slowly.  They were deep into the garden now, away from all the noise of that party.  The moon was the only light they had but it was plenty bright enough, bright enough that she could see every light freckle on Jackson’s face, could see the way his lashes curled, the way his lips were dyed red too.  She looked closer and saw little drops of sweat appearing on his forehead and heard his heart beat faster.

“I thought it might be,” she sighed and stepped back.  Then she spun around on the heel of her boot and stomped back to the party.

Jackson watched her go, he wasn’t really sure what had happened except that he had wanted, he wanted to kiss Stiles Stilinski and the little dweeb that had followed him around and crushed on him for years had walked away.  Jackson still wanted, now he wanted ferociously.

He stood there thinking about it until Matt beckoned him back to the party.

 

Stiles found Scott and Allison when she got back.  It was awkward talking to him with Allison there but desperate times, and also she was still a little buzzed.  “Scott, Jackson is acting really weird.”

“Weird how?  I mean he does change into a giant murderous lizard all the time,” asked Scott.

“He invited me to go for a walk in the garden…”

“Oh my god Stiles, that’s so romantic,” said Allison.

“Oh my god Stiles, tell me you didn’t go off by yourself with a giant murderous lizard,” said Scott.

“Scott,” she whined, “it was romantic.  He said really romantic things and then we were just standing there together, really close, in the moonlight.”

Allison made a squealing noise.

“And I asked him if it was some kind of trick or what.”

“Good girl,” said Scott.  “And?”

“And he didn’t answer me but he started to sweat a little and his heart sped up so I yelled at him and stomped off.”

“What?” asked Allison.

“Um,” said Scott.  “Good girl, you did the right thing.  He’s a douche.”

“Are you sure?” asked Stiles in a tremulous voice, “because that was like every eighth grade fantasy I ever had.”

“I know, I was there.  But it was the right thing, clearly he was lying.”

“Unless he was turned on,” said Allison.

“Allison, shut up,” hissed Scott.

“What?!” asked Stiles.

“Think about it, those are all bodily reactions to getting turned on too aren’t they?”

“Oh my god Scott, I think I’m going to be sick.”

“No Stiles, you aren’t.  You’re okay.  And think about it, if Jackson likes you that won’t be enough to stop him.  He likes things that are hard to get and he isn’t used to people saying no.”

“Oh Scott, I had no idea you were so devious,” said Allison.

“I prefer to think of it as romantic,” said Scott.

“So it isn’t ruined?” asked Stiles.

“No, if he was lying you did the right thing leaving him and if he really does like you you did the right thing because now he’ll come after you harder than ever,” explained Scott.

“Okay, I guess,” said Stiles, she seemed to be thinking hard about it some more and then she excused herself to get another beverage.

“Or,” said Allison, “Scott doesn’t want anyone to ever kiss you and he’s not afraid to play dirty.”

“That could be a possibility too,” Scott had to admit.  “But she’s like my little sister and it’s yucky to think about her sucking face with Jackson.”

“What about with Derek?”

“No never, he’s too old for her.”

“What about Isaac?”

“No, he’s too tall and he’s a werewolf, he could hurt her by accident.”

“What about Matt?”

“Matt is a creep and a stalker and he needs to be ended.”

“So who is she allowed to be with?”

“She can be friends with Danny and all the drag queens she wants.”

“I don’t know whether that’s charming or offensive,” said Allison.

“What’s charming is that she’s so smart and hasn’t noticed yet.”

“I think Jackson really was flirting with her Scott.  She looks really nice tonight and she knows about all the werewolf stuff, it’s a tempting package.”

“You’re probably right but just because he was flirting doesn’t mean he likes her more than he likes Lydia.  And I’m not letting my little sister be that douche’s rebound.”

“You guys really are a package deal aren’t you?”

Scott just shrugged, Allison was the first foray into dating for either of them and he wasn’t really sure how it was working out.  But he also wasn’t eager to ask, especially not after Mrs. Argent’s little freak out.

Allison must have been thinking about that too because she didn’t say anything either.

 

Stiles was looking for Lydia now and she was kind of alarmed that she couldn’t find her.  She wasn’t in the house or on the patio or anywhere and her car was gone too.  Lydia had been too spacey lately for Stiles to be comfortable with the thought of her driving. 

She called Derek because that was what she did now but he didn’t answer.  It seemed like a dumb idea but she called Isaac too, he actually answered.  “Hey,” he said sounding a little tired and stressed.

“Isaac, how are you?  How are Boyd and Erica?”

“We’re okay I guess, Boyd and Erica got loose but Derek and I were able to subdue them again.  He sent me out to buy snacks and when I got back he was gone.  It’s weird, I wouldn’t think he would leave them tonight.”

“I don’t think he would either Isaac, give a sniff and tell me what you’ve got.”

There was a lot of background noise and Stiles had to control herself from listening too hard and getting distracted.  Finally Isaac came back, “Lydia, or Lydia’s perfume and something that makes me sneeze.”

“He left with Lydia?  That’s really strange.”

“It is, where would she take him?”

“I don’t know, probably not back to the party.”

“Oh hey, how is Lydia’s party?”

“I don’t know, kind of lame now that Lydia has left.  What kind of snacks did you buy?” asked Stiles as she started walking towards her Jeep.

 

She texted Scott from the road and ignored his horror that she was going to check on the pack.  She was 99% sure they would still recognize her as a pack mate and not eat her.  Well, maybe 75% but she trusted Isaac to hold them off long enough for her to run away, also she was still wearing her boots.

Isaac was relieved to see her, the others had fallen asleep and Derek being gone was making him anxious.  They sat together on a little subway bench with the bag of Smartfood on Isaac’s lap and watched a video on Stiles’ phone.

Isaac was almost a foot taller than Stiles, his legs stretched out far past hers on the crate they used as a coffee table.  “Do you sleep in those boots too?” he asked her.

He wasn’t trying to be mean or anything, it was really sort of an honest question because he couldn’t remember her wearing sneakers outside of gym class lately.

“No,” she smiled, “but they make me feel stronger, like armor you know.”

Isaac was still wearing his leather jacket so he just nodded and smiled.  He felt happy, Stiles was warm and soft next to him.  She smelled good and she looked really good tonight in an actual dress with makeup on.  He wondered idly if she would leave before Scott or Derek showed up, he was pretty sure neither one would be happy to see him sitting like this, but in the meantime she was warm and pretty and fun to hang out with.

 

It was Derek who came back first, he walked in with his senses reaching out trying to learn as quickly as possible if everything was alright.  He heard or felt Boyd and Erica sleeping cuddled together where he had rechained them, he heard the soft sounds of a baseball game coming through tinny little speakers, he smelled popcorn –no Smartfood, and then he saw Stiles and Isaac sitting together their heads swiveling in synch to him like puppies.  And Derek, who had just had one of the top three most bizarre and trying nights of his life opened his mouth and said, “I didn’t know you could eat Smartfood?”

Stiles' reaction was much more on task, she saw Derek, was briefly surprised that he didn’t freak out over her sitting with Isaac and then saw the person behind Derek.  She jumped up and began backing away, but Isaac didn’t know what was going on and he grabbed her arm to keep her from falling –her feet weren’t working right.

Her feet weren’t working because every sense she had was tunneling in on Peter Hale standing there as smug and alive as ever behind Derek’s back.  Her eyes swept over him and noted the streaks of dirt on his clothes as if he had just crawled out of a fucking grave, she heard his heart beat slow and steady and the same cadence she remembered from him standing so close, much much too close the night of the dance when he caged her against the wall and offered her the bite.  He smelled of dirt too and moonlight and wolfsbane and blood.  Trailing off of both of them were the tendrils of Lydia’s perfume.

“Where’s Lydia?” she gasped.  Because as much as she was tunneling and falling and graying out around the edges here she needed to know why he wasn’t dead but smelling of blood and Lydia.

Derek looked at Isaac who was carefully holding Stiles up but not too close so she would feel trapped.  Derek loved Isaac but god he wanted to trade places now.  “Lydia is safe, we brought her home and put her to sleep on a couch in that room off the pool.  Everyone was gone, I think the cops might have raided it before we got there.”

“Stiles, you’re safe too.” Derek added for what it was worth.  She was in an abandoned warehouse with three inexperienced beta wolves, an inexperienced alpha and a newly resurrected alpha on the night of the full moon and he had just told her she was safe, no wonder she was hyperventilating now and sinking to the ground.

Isaac just went down with her, murmuring whatever nonsense he could.  She curled up into a ball despite her bad ass leather jacket and her big kickin’ boots, tears started to mess up her pretty make up and Isaac felt himself losing control; he looked up with eyes glowing bright gold and carefully enunciated around his fangs, “what the fuck is going on here?”

The other betas started whining too, they were still asleep for the moment so Derek started talking quickly.  He walked closer and sank down to his knees a few feet away, “Isaac this is my Uncle Peter.  He was the alpha that bit Scott and Stiles saw him attack Lydia the night of the winter formal.  He kidnapped her that night too and then we ended up killing him.  That’s how I became the alpha.

But, Uncle Peter knows a lot of arcane shit and somehow he controlled Lydia, he’s the one that made her all loopy these past few weeks and tonight he had Lydia take me to where he was buried and they did a ceremony where he was resurrected.”

“Okay,” said Isaac slowly, “I think I can see why Stiles is freaking out here.  Is he still,” Isaac hesitated over the word evil, “bad?”

Peter was leaning against the wall now, his hands neatly tucked into his pockets and not an inch closer than he had been.  “I don’t think I’m evil anymore, I feel more peaceful now.  I was obsessed with killing the people that were responsible for killing my family, it led to some poor choices.  But now that they have all been, punished, I think I’m ready to heal.”

Stiles really wanted to hear all these explanations of what the hell was going on but only every third of fourth word was getting through to her.  She heard Derek say a few words like kidnapped, alpha, controlled, loopy, resurrected.  She heard Peter say peaceful, killing, punished, heal.  It was almost enough to piece together and make sense but trying just sent her brain tunneling the way her senses sometimes did.

The words went around and around in her head, the voices deep and adult male, so out of place in her little teen world where Scott’s voice wasn’t quite finished and Isaac’s voice had been so soft all night, the voices were pulling her.  Pulling her away from everything else, she couldn’t feel Isaac’s arms around her anymore, she couldn’t smell the cheesy goodness of the Smartfood scattered across the floor, she couldn’t even hear her own heart pounding it was all just dropping away.

Derek noticed first, he sprang for Isaac and ripped Stiles away laying her out and putting his hands on her face.  “Her heart is stopping,” cried Peter as he rushed to their side too.  Derek was patting her cheeks now but he was afraid of hurting her, afraid of his own strength, he didn’t know what to do.

Peter grabbed a bottle of water off the crate and poured the whole thing on Stiles face.  It was an unfortunate choice given her recent brush with drowning but maybe because of that it was extremely effective.  She took a huge breath and curled on her side coughing and spluttering.

Derek pulled his jacket off and placed it over her, Isaac pulled his off too and folded it up into a pillow for under her head.  Derek wanted to pet her but she was ensconced in leather now.  He slid a hand under his jacket and found her hand, wrapping his own around it and drawing off whatever he could pulling hard and sending her to the Odinsleep.

 

After a minute or two they could see the change in her as everything relaxed and sleep took over.  Isaac sat back on his heels and rubbed his face.  “What the hell was that?” he asked.

“I think it was a few things actually.  Probably shock at seeing Peter alive, maybe a little panic attack, but her heart stopping was because she’s a sentinel.”

Peter made a noise at that, it was the sound of his previous observations clicking into place with new knowledge.

“A what?” asked Isaac.

“According to Dr. Deaton and some other sources she was born with the potential to have enhanced senses, some of them better than ours even.  When she almost drowned a few weeks ago,” Derek paused to glare at Peter for throwing the water when he said that, “her potential was actualized so now she is what some call a Sentinel.”

“How does that explain this?” asked Isaac.

Derek sighed, “You’re a new wolf Isaac, what was it like when you could smell the forest for the first time?  Overwhelming, engrossing?  How long did it take for you to finally tear yourself away from smelling the forest?”

Isaac nodded, “and Stiles has always gotten engrossed in things and gone overboard.  She wrote a twelve page paper on male circumcision for economics class.”

Peter chuckled a little at that even as more things were clicking into place for him.

“Exactly, so she can get so drawn into her senses or usually just one sense that everything else stops, she loses all awareness of anything else going on around her and in extreme cases she forgets to breathe, her heart forgets to beat.”

“That’s really scary,” whispered Isaac.

“Yes, yes it is.  So she needs a guide, a person who’s with her most of the time and knows that it can happen.  Scott and I have been trying to guide her and protect her, but Jesus it’s hard.”

“I believe you, I didn’t ask her to come here tonight.  She just called from Lydia’s party when she couldn’t reach you and then I told her you had sent me for snacks so she came over.”

“This is your second moon Isaac?” asked Peter, “and the two others I smell –it’s their first?”

Isaac nodded and Peter started chuckling, “you are so screwed Derek.”

Derek growled at him but didn’t disagree.  Instead he made sure Stiles was comfortable and still asleep before he went to check on his betas.  Boyd and Erica were also sleeping curled up tight together.  The moon was down so he undid all the chains and watched them readjust and then get comfortable again.

Isaac had tidied up a little when he went back to the other room and it gave Derek a little shot of warmth in his heart to know that Isaac wouldn’t leave Stiles alone with Peter yet.  Peter was inspecting the space, “do you live here?” he asked.

“Isaac and I mostly do, the others still live with their parents.  The hunters have been a nuisance.”

“We can do better than this for Isaac Derek.  I’ll call a realtor tomorrow.  I’m assuming by the way I was buried back at the house that you didn’t exactly call in the coroners and  have me declared dead?”

Derek shook his head no. “That’s too bad,” continued Peter, “we could have gotten the insurance money.”

Derek growled at him, he had enough insurance money, way more than enough and it embarrassed him to admit that apparently, subconsciously maybe, he preferred Peter alive instead of as yet another life insurance payment.  Peter smiled, it was familiar.  It was family and while Derek had always thought of pack as family and tried to carry that over to his new pack, family was family and nothing could replace the bonds of a lifetime spent knowing each other.  If Peter was at peace now, if he wasn’t crazy anymore, then Derek was glad he was back.

“I’ll take Stiles home,” he said as if they hadn’t expected it.

“I’m sure you know the way,” murmured Peter.

“Isaac, you can sleep with the others or you can go somewhere else, whatever will make you more comfortable.”  Derek was pretty sure he had never inquired after Isaac’s comfort before.

Isaac understood it to mean, if my resurrected uncle is creeping you out I get it buddy and you can leave.  But he didn’t want to leave the others alone so he told Derek he’d bed down with them.

Peter stretched, “well, I wish I had the strength to go find a hotel room but it seems like too much trouble this late in the night.”  And he strolled off to find himself a homey little corner of the warehouse.

And then Derek was scooping Stiles up again, carrying her to a car unconscious again and taking her back to her empty house.

Her phone buzzed halfway up the stairs so after he had stretched her out on the bed he fished it out and checked the message.  It was from Scott asking if she was still at the warehouse.  He was tempted to text back pretending he was Stiles and it was all good but instead he pulled out his own phone and called him back.

By the time he had explained about Peter and the panic attack and that she was home now he had only managed to get one boot off.  Scott was only barely appeased and promised he would be by first thing in the morning, Derek half heard him because he was busy wondering if Stiles just slept in the damn boots instead of dealing with all the laces.


	6. Fury

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for non-con situation

“We have it now Derek,” Stiles voice message said all in a rush.  “Chasing after the kanima like we were was like I don’t know trying to figure out where a gun was going to shoot.  But guns don’t kill people, people kill people, right?  So anyway we have proof now that Matt is the master of the kanima.  Well, we have a string of compelling circumstantial evidence which is in certain courts, with a given jury, equivalent to proof.

My dad, Scott and I are heading to the sheriff’s station now to pull it all together.  Once we get Matt locked up we’ll see if that’s enough to break whatever hold he has on Jackson.   And even if we can’t cure Jackson, if we can remove the trigger –oh hey it’s like we’re back at the gun analogy- if we remove the trigger then he shouldn’t be able to hurt anyone again.”

“She’s wrong,” said Peter and Derek jumped a little.  “If they kill the master the kanima will just find a new one.  It seeks them out, it tastes their need for vengeance and joins them.”

“But she didn’t say they were going to kill Matt.”

Peter looked at him, “oh, I guess I just assumed.” He smirked and Derek felt the old familiar guilt in his belly.

 

The sheriff had been reviewing evidence at home because he worked too hard and was never around for Stiles and clearly she needed him to be around more.  The other night when he got home, well the other morning really when he got home he went to check on her and found her stretched out on top of her bed in a little red dress.  She hadn’t looked drunk or anything, just tired.  Her face looked freshly scrubbed and there was a thin line of Bacitracin on the cut that was still healing.  Her boots were arranged at the foot of her bed as if they were guarding her, he didn’t doubt that they were, and the new leather jacket that she pretty much lived in was folded carefully over a chair.

The dress was also new, he didn’t remember her telling him about buying it and he was certain that he hadn’t seen it before.  Red was a good color on her, it made her skin look even creamier and made her hair look darker and richer too.  He rolled her to one side and then the other while he worked the quilt down enough to pull it over her and promised himself again that he would try to spend more time at home.  She was growing up and growing away quickly now and he didn’t want to miss more.

So that was why he was breaking a few rules by stretching out in his recliner and watching a cctv tape of a hospital hallway.  At least it wasn’t bloody.  Stiles came in and glanced at the tv for a second, “hey do you want me to get some popcorn?” she offered.  The sheriff wasn’t sure if she was kidding or not so he made a little, I-don’t-know-if-you’re-kidding-or-not-but-that-sounds-good noise.

Stiles came back with a bag of Smartfood and plopped down close enough to share.  The sheriff looked dubiously at the bag and said something stupid about her being smart enough already, she gave him a look and he gave up and ate it.

There was no sound so they were able to talk while they watched which was nice.  The quality of the video was pretty bad too so Stiles found that it didn’t draw her in very much.  They watched for a long time finishing  off the popcorn and chatting about what they should get for dinner when a familiar back appeared.

“Hey that’s Matt from school.  I wonder why he was there at,” she glanced at the counter in the corner of the screen, “11:47 on a school night.”

“What’s Matt’s last name?” asked the sheriff pausing the tape and pulling himself out of the chair.  They went through the credit card receipts from the repair shop and found he had been there too.

The sheriff pulled on his jacket and ejected the disc. “It’s time to head to the station and start writing this up,” he told Stiles.

Stiles looked a little crestfallen, it had been a fun night with her dad.  She nodded to him and started dreading another night home alone, maybe she could boil some rice for dinner…

“Stiles,” her dad said looking at her, “get your coat.”

With a huge smile Stiles ran upstairs to get her coat and quickly left a voice message for Derek. 

Scott was heading up their walk when they came out, Stiles told him what was going on and Scott decided that it was his guidely duty to tag along.  Happily the sheriff didn’t seem to mind.

It was kind of astonishing that two supernaturally enhanced beings and a trained police officer all failed to notice that their murder suspect was parked down the road and followed them, maybe it was because they were so happy.

 

The shit show at the station didn’t start right away.  They were able to gather a bunch of evidence together on the sheriff’s desk and Scott’s mother was going to stop by when her shift was over to give a statement about Matt leaving mud in the hallway the night of the smothering.  The bell above the outer door jingled, someday the sheriff hoped to pull the station into the next century and get a vestibule or something, something that wasn’t a shop bell.

The sheriff sent Stiles and Scott to go see if it was Melissa and bring her back to his office for the statement.  Marci was on the desk tonight and she didn’t know Melissa that well, having the kids there would save her having to dig out two forms of photo id.

Marci wasn’t at the desk though and Melissa wasn’t at the door, instead it was Matt standing above the lifeless woman and pulling Marci’s gun out of her holster that met them.  He moved faster than he should have been able to and grabbed Stiles, jerking her to his chest and pointing the gun at her head.  Damn it, he remembered to take the safety off too.

Stiles stomped hard on his foot and kicked him ferociously until he lifted her off the floor and stepped back away from Scott, her legs swinging uselessly to the side.  Scott wanted to do something but there was the gun and Matt had moved so fast he wasn’t sure what was going on.

“What the hell is going on here?” asked Stiles still trying to kick Matt.  Scott put his hands up in the air and hoped the sheriff would hear Stiles carrying on.  And then also think of something awesome to do, he was the sheriff he would know what to do in this sort of situation.

Matt gestured for Scott to go back the way he came, Scott started backing up, unwilling to take his eyes off Stiles who was still kicking and screaming.  Eventually Scott reached the sheriff’s office and Matt gestured for him to open the door.  Scott did so and then stepped back again so the sheriff could come whizzing through the opening like some sort of ninja, but a ninja with a gun, and shoot Matt right between the eyes.  Nothing happened though. 

Matt gestured for Scott to go through the door and he did but when he looked around he saw the sheriff lying face down on his desk and the kanima perched on the wall behind him. 

Scott was ready for Stiles to freak the fuck out but she froze; she stopped kicking, she stopped screaming and just turned her head to focus on her father.  It was like watching a missile lock on its target; Scott half expected laser beams to come out of her eyes but they didn’t.  He realized he should check out the sheriff too, as best he could - Stiles was probably checking his cholesterol levels, but Scott listened for the regular heart beats and the regular respirations, and he heard them.  Thank god.

Stiles must have heard them too because she turned her head back around to face Matt and then leveled that same focus on him.  Scott would have been terrified by that glare, Matt obviously didn’t know enough. 

“Scott, is that a shredder I see in the corner over there?” asked Matt.  “Be a good boy and bring it over here.”

Scott got the shredder and set it up next to the sheriff’s desk, grateful for the opportunity to come closer to the sheriff and make sure he was okay.  Maybe he would get a chance to make him more comfortable or something.  The kanima twitched its tail and hissed at him, a warning hiss.  Scott kind of hated that he recognized the kanima’s different hisses now.  “Chill out Jackson,” he growled.

Stiles was still staring at Matt and it was starting to get on his nerves.  “Stiles, let’s think about my options here.  One, I can let Jackson paralyze you.  Two, I can let Jackson kill you.  Three, I can bash you in the head right here,” he dragged the muzzle of the gun hard down the barely healed gash on her head (it hurt like a bitch), “I bet your thick skull is all fragile under there, I bet if I hit it as hard as I can it will split like a ripe tomato.  I could do that and then arrange you on the desk right next to your daddy so when he wakes up from that little crack to the head, if he wakes up, he’s trapped staring at you while you die and he can’t move a muscle.  That’s the stuff of nightmares isn’t it?  I don’t think he would ever recover, do you?”

Stiles closed her eyes and shook her head.  Scott started shredding things and waited for something to happen.

Eventually the bell jingled again and they heard Scott’s mom call out a hello.  Scott prayed that she would notice Marci and call 911, he wondered for a moment though if that would just make the phone on the sheriff’s desk ring.  Who exactly did he think should come busting in here?  Maybe Derek and his pack, or maybe Allison and her family, but no, he realized he didn’t really want either of them busting in here because they would be trying to kill Matt and the kanima.  Well Matt probably should die but Jackson was almost like a legit victim here.  Sure he was a douche and probably begged Derek for the bite but he wanted to be a werewolf not a lizard lap dog doing a nobody like Matt’s bidding.

Scott stood up, “that’s my mom, I’ll get rid of her.”

“Are you going to tell her what’s going on back here?” asked Matt pushing the gun into Stiles' wound and making it bleed again.

“No, I’m going to get rid of her, and anyway who would she call?” asked Scott.

“You have two minutes or you’ll hear a bang.”

Scott ran to the front where his mother was, “Mom, we’re all set back there.  The sheriff said he’ll just catch you another time.”

“Really Scott?” asked his mom as she followed his hand gestures to be quiet and then she leaned around the desk and saw the young officer on the ground.

“Yeah mom, just head home now, the sheriff has it under control.  Stiles will drop me off when we’re done.”

“Okay honey, I’ll leave,” but she was shaking her head no, no, no, and Scott was getting so desperate to get back to Stiles and the sheriff.  He gave her a fierce face and then passed over his phone, it was open to one contact.  His mom looked surprised but she nodded and walked back out with it.

Scott ran back to the room on all fours.

“That was fast, even fast enough,” smirked Matt.  “Now get back to your shredding.”

Matt even had him shred the cctv tape, which Scott did with relish because it jammed the machine and slowed down the destruction.  It was stupid to destroy the evidence anyway because Matt was committing another crime now, if they couldn’t get him for killing the mechanic and that girl they could just get him for attacking Marci and the sheriff and holding Stiles hostage.  So Scott didn’t really give a shit about destroying the evidence, he was back to waiting.

“You know what Scott, this is boring.  Let’s have some other kind of fun for a while.  Move over to that couch and take your shirt off,” Matt ordered.

Scott stripped off his shirt and sat.  “Looking good Mr. Co-captain,” sneered Matt shoving Stiles over to him. “Take your shirt off too Stiles, we’re going to have a photo shoot for Allison.  Maybe Mrs. Argent will come down here and finish this off for me.”

“I wish I had my real camera,” complained Matt.  He set the gun down but jerked his head at the kanima and it moved closer to Scott and Stiles.  Matt fussed with his camera phone for a while and then decided he needed to pose his subjects.

“Now Stiles, I want you to straddle Scott’s lap; move closer and closer, that’s good.” 

“I’m sorry,” whispered Scott.

“At least it’s you,” whispered Stiles back, “I love you.”  With her shirt off he could see her ribs rapidly rising and falling as she teetered on the edge of hyperventilating.  The bruise from being kicked had faded down almost to nothing, Scott wondered if Derek had licked it.  Licking a head wound was one thing but Scott knew from tickle fights when they were younger how sensitive Stiles’ sides were.  He leaned over to pick up his shirt from the floor and used a corner to dab at the trickle of blood on her forehead.  He put his other hand on her jaw to keep her head steady and drew off all the pain he could.

Stiles’ eyes slipped closed and her breathing slowed down to normal.  It didn’t last though because Matt had more orders, “that’s enough, drop the shirt and kiss her on the neck now.”

Scott did it tasting fear and embarrassment on her skin.  His breath was hot and she shivered.  Matt made a pleased noise.

“Good, but I’m afraid that bra just isn’t doing anything for me.  Did you buy it in the granny section?  Was it a K-Mart special?” Stiles flushed and Scott growled but Matt just gave them a smirk, “take it off.”

Scott’s hands were on her hips, one of the few places he could put them where it wasn’t skin, and he didn’t move.  Stiles gave him a fierce look and reached back to undo the bra herself.  “They aren’t a big deal Scott, I’ve got this,” she whispered.  As she lowered the straps and shrugged it off she could feel his claws pricking through her jeans. 

“You look so pained Scott,” teased Matt.  “They aren’t that bad, touch them now or I’ll do it for you.”  Stiles gasped at that and Scott looked down at the movement.

With a breath he willed away the claws and then slowly dragged his hands up her sides.  When he reached the top he dragged them back down again, and then up again and then he carefully slid them towards her chest.  He rubbed his thumbs underneath where her bra had left a little bit of redness.  He felt her breathing change again as he did it and then he slowly slid his hands up so that his palms were covering her breasts almost completely, shielding them from Matt’s view.

His hands were so hot that Stiles couldn’t control the reactions her body needed to make, the tremors that followed wherever he touched and the way her breasts tightened up beneath him.  It was humiliating but it was still Scott, it’s just Scott she repeated over and over again to herself.

“Nice,” leered Matt.  “You should probably kiss her now Scott, after all she let you touch her boobies, it’s only polite.”

“And Scott,” he continued, “kiss her for real, we’ll know the difference.”  He gestured to the kanima which was watching just as closely as Matt.  Sometimes it seemed like you could read things in the kanima’s eyes, Scott looked close to see if there was any sort of sympathy in there but they were inscrutable, not unfeeling, but he couldn’t tell what was swirling around in them.

Stiles was looking down again and Scott figured he could probably move his hands, he slid them around to her back hoping that his arms would hide her but sort of forgetting that his shirt was off too.  They had a lot of skin contact now and it was getting overwhelming. 

He kissed her cheek, he moved a centimeter over and kissed her again and again until he was kissing the corner of her mouth.  It wasn’t as awkward as Stiles thought it would be, but of course he had been making out with Allison every chance he got for months now.  All Stiles had was an awkward attempt at playing doctor from eighth grade.  And of course that had been with Scott, it was always Scott.  She lifted her head and caught the next kiss.

Scott opened his mouth a little and tugged on her lower lip, swiping it with just the tip of his tongue.  Stiles felt her whole body flush as she opened her mouth and kissed him back.  She could zone on this, she could zone on this for a million years she thought to herself.  There was so much going on, his hands were moving all over her back, his fingertips dragging as if her skin was made of silk.  Her chest was pressed against his now and she could feel his muscles moving as his arms shifted, could feel his lungs expanding as they snatched little breaths of air, could feel his heart pounding with excitement.  And then there was the smell and the taste of Scott as he overwhelmed her; she couldn’t say if it was his mother’s Mexican cooking or an aftershave or anything she could name, it was just Scott, her constant.

The bell over the door rang and Stiles froze.  Scott froze too and it was like Stiles could see the thoughts of Allison crashing over him, shutting him down.  She curled up, wrapping her arms across her chest and refusing to meet anyone’s eyes.

Matt was cursing, he grabbed Scott’s shirt off the floor,  Jesus when did he get so close, and thrust it at him.  “Go get rid of whoever is there,” he growled.  Scott pulled his shirt on and then gently shifted Stiles off his lap and set her in the corner of the couch, her legs came up almost automatically to form another layer of defense.  She didn’t move to get her own shirt or bra and Scott could tell that Matt would have forbidden it anyway.  What if Matt touched her while Scott was away?  He looked over at the sheriff but he was still unconscious, at least he hadn’t heard anything.

Derek was standing there sniffing the air carefully.  Scott had no idea what his mom had said to him but he was grateful for whatever, he had no idea how to explain any of this to his mom but that was a worry for later after the sheriff and Stiles were safe.

Scott realized he still hadn’t said anything but nothing really needed to be said, Derek was staring at the blood stain on Scott’s shirt and his nostrils were flaring.  Could he tell by smelling that it belonged to Stiles he wondered, because Derek was definitely acting like he knew who’s blood that was.

Scott fiercely hoped there was nothing else to smell and then turned to lead him back to the room.  The door was open and they could see Matt holding the gun to Stiles’ head again, she still had her arms wrapped around her chest and Matt was leaning close to her ear, telling her something that made her flush and look away.

Derek felt his eyes turn red and his fingers creak as he fought to keep himself from leaping across the room.  Scott took a step though and the kanima dropped down from where it was waiting above the door.  Derek saw it and put his arm up lunging to try and protect Scott.  The leather sleeve was enough to block the initial strike but the kanima spun around hissing and lashed out again, Derek went down hard.

Stiles broke away from Matt during the scuffle and rushed to her guides; the kanima got her too, right across the collar bone.  Scott was left standing there completely wolfed out and snarling at the kanima which was snarling back.

“Stop,” cried Matt.  “We need to stay focused here.  We don’t want to be carting bodies all around Beacon Hills, leave Scott alone.  He’s going on a little walk with us.”

“These two though,” he continued, “we can leave here.  This guy, this werewolf apparently, can be found with Stiles.  Just to muddy the waters, right.”

“Hmm,” he walked around Derek and Stiles, “it’s like a still life.”  He rolled Stiles over so she was on her back and then kicked her boots apart so her legs were spread open.  The kanima had to help him roll Derek into position on top of her, Stiles’ breaths instantly became shallower. 

He draped their arms a few different ways before he was pleased and then he shoved Derek’s face into Stiles’ neck so he was half smothered too.  “If you guys survive this, and the investigation, and all that, asphyxiation is going to be such a kink for you.  Unless it isn’t.”

“Come on Scott,” he urged, “time to go finish breaking Allison’s heart.”

He closed the door and Stiles tried to take a breath; it seemed easier.  She felt the zipper on Derek’s jacket dig into her chest and twist.  The mother-fucking bell rang above the door again and Derek lifted himself off of Stiles.

“What?  How?” she asked.

“I faked it.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s a dumbass and not smart enough to really check if someone is paralyzed.  He relies too much on his superior firepower and was wide open to the simple con.”

“You are really awesome,” said Stiles, “if I was smart enough to fake being paralyzed too I would totally be hugging you now.”

Derek had carried her to the couch and had her shirt back on her by then.  He stuffed her bra in her pocket and got her adjusted comfortably, even pulling an afghan over her.   “I guess it’s my night to be the brains of this operation,” he leaned in closer inspecting the way part of her freshly healed skin had opened up again, “and do you know what else?”  His voice was soft, his hand was soft, even his freaking eyes were a soft warm shade of gray now looking at her like she, like she was precious or something.

Stiles shook her head no because it was hard to speak when she was suddenly overwhelmed by his intensity after so much had happened.  “You’re going to stay here, stay safe here, while I go help Scott.  Don’t move from this couch Stiles.  I’ll call Mrs. McCall after I confirm that both Matt and the kanima are gone and let her know she can come back.”  He kissed her forehead, or maybe he was just licking it again, and then he was gone.

Stiles listened to his heart beat as he left her, it was strong and steady and she convinced herself she could hear it long after the bell had jingled.

So there was Mrs. McCall bursting in and speaking a bunch of jargon into her phone really quickly and then there were sirens and stretchers and a quick ride to the hospital.  And then when she could move again there was waiting next to her dad’s bed while people assured her he was going to be fine and it was just precautionary.  Which she believed incidentally because she could hear his heart beating just fine and his breathing was deep and steady but not enough to soothe her, not enough to stop her brain from skittering off to wherever Scott and Derek were.

And then there was Scott, he burst in to the room like he had run all the way from the parking lot and Stiles leaped into his arms.  He caught her easily and then Mrs. McCall came in too, at slightly more than a brisk jog and Scott had room for her too.

They stood there for a long time and then finally Mrs. McCall pulled herself away to wipe her eyes.  “The sheriff is in really good hands here, and he’s going to be out for the rest of the night anyway.  Let’s head home.”  Scott nodded and just adjusted Stiles a little so he could walk with her.  Mrs. McCall shook her head but had nothing else to say.

They did separate in the car because Scott’s mom was a seatbelt fanatic but he just scooped her up again for the walk in the house and up the stairs.  It had been a long time since they had a sleepover but Scott walked right to his room.  Mrs. McCall made some complicated hand gestures and he dropped Stiles on the bed and then went to whisper in the hall with her behind the closed door.

“Scott, I know you were active, sexually active with Allison.”

Scott blushed.

“And I know that you and Stiles aren’t like that.”

Scott blushed harder.

“Are you?  You know what, it doesn’t matter, just not tonight.  She’s practically catatonic and if you try anything with her tonight I will castrate you myself.”

“I give you my word of honor, nothing tonight.  And I do still think of her as my sister.”

“Her bra was stuffed in her pocket and she had a cut on her clavicle that was underneath her shirt.”

“I know, Matt…”  Scott sighed and looked green.  “I know, but it doesn’t look like I’m scaring her.”

“No, I think you’re what she needs tonight, just be careful.”

“I will Mom, thanks for being so awesome tonight.”

“Part of me wants to know what the hell happened right now before you get a whole night to come up with some stupid story, but you’re here.  You’re safe.  Everyone I care about is safe so I’m going to let that go for now.”

It felt like an opening for him to make some earnest promise about telling her the truth in the morning; Scott said nothing.  Mrs. McCall sighed and walked down the hall to her bedroom.

 

Stiles was sitting up when he opened his door again, she was picking at the laces on her boots and loosening them.  She looked up with a tired little smile, “the last time Derek put me to bed he undid the laces completely and it took me twenty minutes to redo them the next day.”

Scott nodded and sat down next to her to take off his own shoes.  He stripped down to his boxer briefs and threw his t-shirt in the hamper; he didn’t want to sleep in something stinking of Stiles’ blood.  He didn’t usually sleep in shirts anymore anyway because they felt too hot and choking with his new metabolism.  He could suck it up for one night though and he moved towards his dresser.

“That’s okay Scott, I don’t mind the shirtlessness unless you do.”

Scott froze completely surprised, “I don’t, why would you?” he couldn’t even figure out what he wanted to ask and then he turned to see Stiles bright red and looking down at her knees.  Whatever, he decided.

They slid under the sheets together.  Scott had a double bed but they curled up around each other in the middle.  Stiles put her palm flat on Scott’s chest right over his heart.  She rested her head against his shoulder and closed her eyes, “if I concentrate really hard,” she whispered to him, “I can feel not just your heart beating but the chambers pulsing – the valves opening and closing.  It’s amazing and really peaceful.  Well, it’s peaceful if the other person is at peace, the first time I did it was when Derek and I were drowning and his heart felt like it was going to fly out of his chest. 

But I tried it again with my dad one night, it frightened me to try it because I thought I would feel it failing or something but I didn’t.  It was just sure and steady.  And then tonight I wanted to feel yours to make sure you were still, I don’t know, sure and steady.”

“Always,” whispered Scott pulling her in close.  He pushed her hair back from the newly rebandaged scar and black went swirling up his arm as the tension faded from her body.

Stiles woke up hours later in the early light of the day.  She was still tired but not tired enough to go back to sleep without learning what had happened last night.  She wondered if Scott was still asleep.  Since she had practically given him an echocardiogram the night before she figured she could use her sentinel senses and figure out if he was awake now or not.  Less than a minute later she decided that was boring and it didn’t really matter if he was still asleep or not, the point was she could just wake him up.

“Stiles, why did you poke me?” whined Scott.

“I can’t wait anymore, tell me what happened.”

“Stiles it’s," he rolled over and looked at his alarm clock for a while trying to make sense of the numbers, "5:30, we just went to bed like five hours ago.”

“I can’t wait anymore, tell me what happened or I’ll just call Derek and he can tell me.”

“Grr, what are you Lydia playing your two daddies against each other?”

“If necessary.”

“Okay, okay,” whined Scott.  He had sat up at the initial poking but now he hunkered back down so that their heads were on the same pillow, they linked fingers and then Stiles hooked her ankle over Scott’s leg.  “Ready?” he asked and Stiles nodded.

“Okay, so when my mom came she totes saw Marci and was freaking out but I handed her my phone with the contact list open to Derek and got her to leave.  She went outside and probably freaked out and then called him.  I didn’t want her to call 911 because I thought something would ring inside the station and Matt would find out.

So then Derek came and when I met him in the front he didn’t say anything at all, just looked all wolfed out and we walked back to your dad’s office as fast as we could.  And then you were there for that part and then Matt was all pulling me away to go see Allison.

So we were in Matt’s car heading for Allison’s and Derek caught up with us there.  I don’t actually know how he did that, do you?”

“Yeah, the kanima never paralyzed him, he faked it.”

“Oh my god, that’s awesome.”

“I know, he’s going to be so insufferable now, I can already see the eyebrows of gloating.  He put me on the couch and tucked me in and shit and then when he was sure the building was clear he called your mom to come in like the cavalry.”

“He almost deserves the eyebrows of gloating…”

“I know, we’ll deal with them later, tell me what happened at Allison’s.”

“Okay, Allison met us in the driveway which really panicked me.”

“Wait, did the kanima ride in the car?”

“Yes, in the back seat, and I was shotgun.  So Allison came out to meet us and Jackson slid out of the car without her noticing it was there.”

“Don’t call him Jackson when he’s the kanima.  He isn’t responsible.”

“Fine, whatever.  So she was all ‘Scott, I can’t believe you would cheat on me like that’ and she said a lot of stuff and Matt was just lapping it up.”

“Colorful Scott, I can see Matt as an evil cat drinking in your shame.”

“Thanks, so she got really loud and her grandpa came out to see what the fuss was all about and then he told us to go around back where it was more private.

And I had no idea where the kanima was so I was just playing along and playing along, because I guess that’s my default crisis mode.”

“Scott, we’ll have that conversation next, keep the action moving.”

“Okay, so we go in the back and there’s a giant pool and Matt starts getting distracted by how giant the pool is.  Because of the almost drowning and the swim team thing.”

“No doubt Scott.”

“As soon as we were out of sight grandpa pulled a gun and just shot Matt.  He, remember how he was moving almost faster than he should have been able to?  I think he was becoming a kanima too because he screamed but it sounded like an animal and then grandpa shoved him in the pool and when Matt tried to climb back out he held him down.  And Matt fought hard, but not for very long.

The kanima watched the whole thing and then it walked up to her grandpa and they like, high fived each other or something.  And you could just feel this wall of doom slamming down, because grandpa Argent owns Jackson’s ass now.”

“Oh my God, that’s so much worse than Matt.”

“Isn’t it?  So he sicced the kanima on me and I ran like hell and then Derek was there helping me and between us we were able to fight it off a little, enough that it eventually gave up and went home.”

“Did you talk to Allison after?  Did she know her grandpa was going to do that?”

“No, Derek told me you were probably at the hospital so I went there.”

“Did it seem like she thought the photos were real?”

“I don’t know Stiles.  I’m not sure how much it matters, there’s more crazy in that family than I thought.”

They were quiet for a long time and then Scott had to ask the question he didn’t want to ask, and he was actually kind of glad they were getting this all out now, in the half dark privacy of his room, wrapped up together.  “Are you okay Stiles?  The things Matt had me do to you, they were pretty bad.”

“They were, but I’m still glad it was you.  If I had to kiss Matt I’d be brushing my teeth forever.  And you know, it was just second base really.  You copped a feel, you stole a kiss, I’ll survive.”

“Stiles, I don’t want you to just survive.  I wanted your first kiss to be special, I tried not to think about the boobies thing but the kiss…”

“Oh, is that why you kept all the other boys away?”

Scott smiled, “maybe.  Or maybe none of them were good enough.”

“Well your kiss was really nice, plenty good enough.  But I don’t know, I think you don’t mind Allison’s family that much and I kind of agree that she is really nice.  And also I don’t want Matt to be right about anything, you know?”

“I know, but I also agree that it was a really nice kiss.  All these years I’ve been telling myself you’re like my little sister but you really aren’t.  I mean, I know now that supernatural shit is real but our little blood sibling oath might not have been actual magic.”

“I could ask Deaton for a real one,” said Stiles even though she was remembering how hot his hands had felt and how precious he made her feel. 

“Why don’t we wait on that?” asked Scott as he rolled over to stroke her side and Stiles felt like her body was being liquefied.  He touched her jaw and she turned to him like a sunflower, and he kissed her but it was chaste because he had promised his mom, and also because it was still new and strange.

Scott smiled as he watched all the thoughts in the world fly across her face, and he smiled harder when he realized she was speechless.  Five hours really wasn’t enough sleep and they were still warm and cuddled in bed so he pushed and pulled until he was the big spoon and Stiles was the little spoon; his hand had slipped under her shirt but the covers were up so his mom wouldn’t notice.  He closed his eyes and tried to picture the chambers of her heart moving under his palm.


	7. Battlefield

“So Stiles, your dad told me he’s thinking of sending you to visit your aunt for a while.  What are your feelings on that?” asked Ms. Morrell the school counselor.  The sheriff’s department had a counselor too but he was a greasy old guy with eyebrows that looked like they could kidnap small dogs so when given the choice Stiles had gone for Ms. Morrell.  Plus Ms. Morrell seemed really chill.

“I asked him to please hold all discussions until after the lacrosse championship, the end of the school year would be better but I didn’t want to be too demanding.”

“Couldn’t you tell him if you don’t want to go?”

“Yeah, but I get that he’s super worried about me.  I mean like everywhere I’ve gone lately mayhem has followed.  I can see him wanting me to leave town just so things will quiet down at the sheriff’s station again.”

“Do you think things will quiet down if you leave?”

“No, I think things will quiet down now that Matt is out of business.  I mean sadly, it isn’t that unusual anymore for the creepy quiet high school student to have terrorism in their soul and since we were in a bunch of the same classes, on the same team, living in the same town, it’s just coincidence that I kept popping up in the wrong place.”

“That seems plausible,” said Ms. Morrell noncommittally.  Stiles didn’t growl that she was surrounded by people who constantly said leading comments like that to her.  Instead she fidgeted with her lacrosse stick, she was also fidgeting with her stick so she wouldn’t look too closely at Ms. Morrell and try to figure out if she was lying or not.  So far she hadn’t actually said anything that mattered one way or the other.

“Stiles, did Matt touch you in ways he shouldn’t have while your father was unconscious?”

“Wow, way to work up to it slowly,” sniped Stiles defensively.  She spun her stick around a few times, “no, Matt didn’t.”

“Did someone else?” asked Ms. Morrell.

“The only other person there was Scott.”

“And?”

“And Scott would never hurt me.  Scott is like my brother, he loves me.”

“So you’ve never kissed or anything, because there was that story going around about the rave a few weeks ago.”

“Scott isn’t actually my brother, I just said he’s like my brother.  We did kiss once, to see what it was like.  I mean we’ve been best friends for years, it would be weirder if we never experimented with each other.”

“But nothing more?” asked Ms. Morrell, whom Stiles was now starting to dislike; the sheriff department guy wasn’t up on any of this gossip he probably would have been easier to deal with.

“Scott is still pretty smitten with Allison Argent and you know me, I have my huge unrequited crushes to keep me company.”

“Smitten is an interesting choice of words, it sounds like you don’t see real emotion there.”

“I guess I do, but I just don’t really like her family so maybe I’m trying to subconsciously devalue their relationship.”

“That seems fair,” allowed Ms. Morrell, “do you do the same to your relationships by calling them unrequited crushes?”

“No, that’s what they are.”

“Really, because I heard that Jackson sent a big bouquet of flowers to your house after the attack at the sheriff’s station.”

Stiles blushed and started twisting the lacrosse stick in her hands as if she could wring it.  “Yeah, he did but he wasn’t who I meant, Jackson was my eighth grade crush.” 

“And you’ve outgrown that crush?” asked Ms. Morrell.

“Pretty much,” said Stiles, still pretty red.

“So, can I ask who your current unrequited crush is?”

“I don’t see how that’s really relevant to me processing this string of attacks.”

“Maybe I just want reassurance that you’re making safe choices?”

“But if it’s unrequited pining what does it matter?  It’s just fantasy, just something to keep me distracted and entertained.”

“Is it Derek Hale?  I find him very distracting.”

“I guess, but I know he’s too old for me.”

“Werewolves age differently,” Ms. Morrell shrugged, “I would be more concerned that he’s a brand new alpha and in over his head.  The school has noticed that Erica and Boyd haven’t been in class all week.”

Stiles dropped her stick.  “They, um, they had a difficult transition over spring break and I think they’re trying to figure some things out.”

“Derek was too distracted by other things to take good care of his betas.  I brought it up because I think you were one of those other things, I think your crush is a lot less unrequited than you’re telling yourself.”

“Really?” asked Stiles, scrambling to pick up her stick and get herself settled in the chair again.  “I guess if that’s so I can see why it would be important information for me to have.  Because you know, I should probably act differently in front of him then, set some boundaries that I didn’t know I needed.”

Ms. Morrell smiled, “that would probably be a good idea.  I’m sure your dad would appreciate it.”

 

Scott was called to the principal’s office.  “I want to congratulate you Scott on making some good decisions these past few days,” started Principal Argent offering Scott an icy can of soda.

“You and Allison witnessed a bit of ugliness but it was something that needed to be done.  You’ve figured out Matt’s sins, stalking my granddaughter was just one of many.  Maybe your good decision was because he sinned against someone you love too, hmmm?” asked Principal Argent as he dropped a stack of photos on his desk.  He gestured to Scott and Scott put his sweaty can down on top of a paper he hoped was important and then picked up the stack. 

Argent gave him a look and moved the can to a file folder but Scott didn’t notice.  He had no idea Matt had taken so many pictures; they were sort of good too, arty kind of, and sexy, definitely sexy.  He didn’t look like he was kissing the girl he told everyone was like a sister to him, he looked like he was worshipping her.

Just looking at them brought the moments back: his hands were huge and dark along her sides and he could feel her body again expanding as she took deep shuddering breaths.  The way he spread his palms flat, to keep Matt from seeing as her nipples got hard but also, he had to admit, to keep it for himself.  And then he reached the pictures of the kiss; their eyes were closed, her lashes a dark smudge above the flush of her cheeks and not much else could be seen –it looked like Scott was trying to devour her, to take everything, and she was just giving it to him, giving him her first kiss.  Her trust, her faith. 

And Scott realized that whatever Argent asked him for next he was going to say yes.

 

The sheriff was on medical leave for three days and on the fourth night Derek appeared outside Stiles’ window.  She hadn’t seen him since he had tucked her under the afghan in her father’s office, they had texted a few times but for two people with senses like theirs texting was woefully inadequate.  Stiles needed to smell Derek again, to hear the creaking noise his leather jacket made when he stretched or twisted, and she needed to see him too –the quicksilver little flashes of emotion that streaked across his eyes or mouth.

He tapped on the glass and she rushed over to unlock and open the window.  He slid in and when he stood up she hadn’t stepped away yet so they stood there, staring at each other until they both moved and then they were hugging, or was it clinging.  Derek could admit to clinging, he squeezed his eyes shut but still he could see Stiles as she had been at the sheriff’s station; shirtless, paralyzed, bleeding –and the way Matt had dragged him on top of her.  The way he had let Matt humiliate her because if he risked fighting he risked losing, and if he lost then he couldn’t protect Stiles against worse harm.  Which was stupid he thought now, she should hate him for letting his stupid ruse go on so long.  He remembered the red marks his jacket had left on her chest, the way his weight squeezed the breath out of her, and he was embarrassed by his stupid plan.  Embarrassed that he wasn’t strong enough to just kill Matt or Jackson for her.

She hit him on the side of the head, hard, “stop it,” she ordered.  “You’re thinking those heavy thoughts again.”

He couldn’t even smile, he pulled back and frowned at her, “I’m sorry.  Not for the heavy thoughts, for the sheriff’s station, for not protecting you better.”

“You protected me just fine,” insisted Stiles.

Derek didn’t want to list all the ways he hadn’t, all the ways he had seen her humiliated so he just whined.

“Come on,” said Stiles pulling him away from the window and towards her bed, conveniently forgetting her talk with Ms. Morrell, “let’s talk about other stuff.”

The bed, Stiles told herself because she hadn’t really forgotten Ms. Morrell, was because they needed to scent each other, she wanted her pillows to smell like him again because it made her feel safe.  And she knew he would want to lick at her new stitches, reassure himself that she was mostly okay.  It wasn’t sexual, it was pack; it was family like Scott - or maybe Scott was a bad example of that now.

Derek didn’t seem surprised or freaked out about being led to her bed; it really was where they did most of their interacting although to be fair Stiles was usually sick or hurt or something when they interacted in her bedroom.  She was already wearing the oversize t-shirt she liked to sleep in so she climbed under the covers and Derek stretched out next to her so he could inspect her new stitches.  He whined again and Stiles remembered the glob of ointment she had smeared on after brushing her teeth, she wondered if she should offer to wash it off –it probably tasted terrible, but the licking started so she assumed it wasn’t an issue.

He had almost lulled her to sleep when she felt him stop and then he was pulling the collar of her t-shirt down and inspecting the scratch from when the kanima had paralyzed her.  It was just a scratch, already scabby and mostly healed but Derek had to lick it too she figured.

Derek licking her collarbone was completely different from Derek licking a still mostly tender head wound.  Plus he was deviating from the injury and now he was licking her neck, no not just licking because teeth were not used during the licking process.  Stiles felt like lightning was rushing through her body and then she was horrified to smell her own arousal even as she could feel it pooling low in her belly.  Horrified and turned on, which made it worse.

Derek forced himself away from her neck and looked up with red eyes.  “I should stop that,” he rasped and then gave her neck one more kiss/bite/suck/lick whatever it was that made her turn to liquid.  He reached out one finger and traced the marks he had left on her, which was also hot.

Stiles opened her mouth and then realized she had opened it to talk about Ms. Morrell so she closed it again.  Derek smiled, really smiled with crinkly eyes and everything and Stiles felt like she was falling off a cliff and the cliff’s name was hopelessly in love with Derek.  Shit, she thought to herself and smiled back at him.

 

Scott and Allison finally met up with each other, in private, that night too.  It might have been helpful to Scott if he knew what Stiles was doing. 

“Scott, I’m kind of flattered that you still like me after seeing all the crazy in my family,” said Allison as she drummed her fingers on the steering wheel of her car.  She had snuck out at midnight and driven to his street to meet with him.

“You aren’t responsible for your family, you can be your own person,” insisted Scott but he knew their conversation wasn’t going to be about her family.

They were both quiet for a while, Scott figured that Allison was trying to find a segue from her crazy to his but eventually she just blurted, “I saw all the pictures.  Matt sent me some of them that night to get me to meet with you, he was so deranged that night.  But then after my grandfather got the rest of them developed I looked through all of them.”

“You shouldn’t have done that,” said Scott.  “It was bad enough, what Matt did, but we don’t deserve to have your family passing those pictures around.”

“You’re right, I’m sorry about that.  But I did see them Scott, and I can’t unsee them now.”  Scott looked out the window.

“Your face when you were holding her, it was like she was the most precious thing in the world.”

“She is, so is my mom, so are you,” Scott said softly to the glass.

“Maybe, but I thought you would have reacted differently.  Of course you would be chivalrous, of course you would be careful, but I thought you would be more awkward or shy or something.  I didn’t expect it to be so, so sensuous.”

“I don’t think I did either,” admitted Scott, “but she was so scared and so trusting of me and it was her first kiss; I just wanted to make it better.”

Allison made a humming sort of noise and Scott kept talking.  “Those pictures don’t tell the whole story you know.  They don’t show how he grabbed her by the throat and held a gun to her head, they don’t show how her father was out cold just a few feet away.  They don’t show how Matt degraded her by making her strip or how he dragged the muzzle of the gun he stole down the cut your mother gave her and opened it up again.  They don’t show how her heart was thundering, how terrified she was.

And you know, it wasn’t my only living parent unconscious on that desk, it wasn’t my body that Matt stared at with his filthy eyes and fucking camera, he couldn’t have killed me with that gun, so yeah Allison, I kind of went out of my way to make my best friend’s first and possibly only kiss as fucking sexy and awesome as I possibly could.  And it wasn’t that hard either because she is fucking sexy and awesome and brave and wonderful.  And I do love her, I hope I always will.” 

Scott noticed he was crying by the end but he figured it was better than wolfing out and leaving claw marks in her car, which her family would totally recognize as claw marks, and Allison was crying too.  She was really blubbering sobbing crying so he pulled her over to his side and hugged her tight.

After a few minutes they pulled themselves together again, “what are we going to do now?” asked Allison.

“I don’t know,” said Scott.

 

Allison tried to be nicer to Stiles, it wasn’t Stiles’ fault that her mother was facing assault charges in court next month.  And it didn’t seem to make Stiles uncomfortable or anything, she actually seemed happier and Allison realized it was because she didn’t want to come between her and Scott.  Except she had with the pictures, but Stiles didn’t know that she had seen all of the pictures, in fact Allison was pretty sure that Stiles hadn’t seen any of the pictures.

She and Scott had tried to figure out a way to get rid of the pictures but they were pretty sure the original files had been uploaded somewhere secure and it didn’t matter how many of the prints they destroyed, more could be made.  Their new plan was to go along with Gerard for the time being and try to get a set of the prints to Stiles so she could at least be prepared for when he inevitably posted them to the school website or took out a centerfold in the school paper.

Allison’s mom was also a problem.  She wasn’t stupid enough to blame Stiles directly for the shit she had landed in but she enjoyed pointing out that Stiles was a werewolf sympathizer and her affection for Scott and Derek would be her inevitable downfall.  Making the pictures public would go a long way in helping her image as Allison’s mother/champion, no matter that the pictures were taken a week after she attacked Stiles.

Scott was still working on how to ask Allison if her father was a decent human being or not, he hoped he was.

 

“Who are you texting?” Scott asked Stiles at lunch the day of the championship lacrosse match.  He was waiting for her to stop so he could ask her something but then he realized that everyone she knew, or everyone he thought she knew was sitting at their table.  Allison, Lydia and Jackson were at the far end, Isaac was next to Stiles.  Sure Erica and Boyd weren’t around but they weren’t friends, were they?

“Derek, he’s worried about Erica and Boyd.  They heard wolves in the woods last night but Derek doesn’t think there’s another pack around.”

“What does he think it was?”

“Hunters, I guess,” said Stiles.

“Do you want me to ask Allison?” offered Scott.

“Nah, I don’t want to put her in the middle.  If she says they weren’t out and then they were it will be bad, if she says they were out and she didn’t warn us then it’s bad, if she says she doesn’t know then it will be cool but then if that’s the only response we want to hear why would we ask?”

“Wow, you think a lot,” said Scott.

“I’m trying to step it up,” admitted Stiles, “I still can’t believe he faked being paralyzed.”

“So, um, do you guys text a lot?”

“Yeah, we do.  He hasn’t been able to take me out for training lately so I guess we’re trying to make up for it.  It’s a good thing my dad isn’t as big a snoop as Allison’s family.”

“I don’t think anybody’s family is as bad as hers,” sighed Scott looking forlornly down the length of the table to where she was laughing with Lydia.

“So, are you guys on again?” asked Stiles.

“Yeah, we are but maybe just on simmer instead of full boil.”

“I guess that’s good, is it because of our, because of the pictures that Matt sent her?” asked Stiles with a blush.

Scott put his hand over her arm, “sort of, but not entirely.  Ummm, about those pictures Stiles…”

“Yeah?” asked Stiles.

“I saw them, I saw them all, there are a lot of them and Principal Argent got them from Matt’s phone after he, after he killed him.”

“Oh,” said Stiles.

“Allison and I are trying to steal them so we can give them to you, so you can see them too and be ready if he, or when, he does something with them.”

“Yeah, because if you steal the prints he probably has them in a cloud somewhere,” mused Stiles.  “Allison saw them too and understands?”

“Yeah, I told her about the extenuating circumstances.  Stiles they’re, um, in the pictures you can tell, even I can tell, how much we mean to each other.  It wasn’t just that she saw a picture of me kissing you, she saw me loving you.”

Stiles was bright red, “I can’t believe you said that at the lunch table Scott you giant dork.”  She blotted under her eyes carefully.

“Well, better here than in the locker room,” said Scott knocking her arm so that she almost poked herself in the eye.

 

Later that evening they gathered in the locker room for Coach Finstock’s stirring recitation of the Independence Day speech.  It really was touching, it was a warm fuzzy compared to the creepiness that poured out of Principal Argent’s mouth when he spoke next about killing the other team and then leered at Jackson, who looked pale and uncomfortable like a normal person should.

Stiles wanted to talk to Jackson and see if he was aware that his kanima master had been killed and he had a new one now but she didn’t really want to be alone with him.  He hadn’t hurt her, not as much as others had at least, but he had been a witness and that was enough to make her palms sweat and for her to chicken out.

She was pretty sure Jackson had noticed too, he didn’t normally sit at her lunch table after all.  And after Jackson had sat down near her Isaac had rushed over and plopped himself down between them.  As soon as things quieted down Stiles was going to get to know what went on in that ridiculous curly head of his, he was too sweet.

Surely things would quiet down someday, after the championship, after Erica and Boyd pulled their heads out of their asses, after she had her trial with Mrs. Argent, after they did something about their principal, his pet kanima and his blackmail photos.  It was almost enough to make her forget about the sentinel stuff except the smell of nerves and unwashed gym clothes was smothering her.

The principal was saying something, something ra-ra and suddenly the rest of the team was throwing their arms in the air and yelling.  Stiles reeled back from the smell and put her arm under her nose, she looked over to see Isaac and Scott smiling and laughing at her.  She flipped them off and went to gather the rest of her stuff, when she turned around everyone was marching off to the field and Jackson was waiting for her.

“Stiles,” he said and it sounded like an apology.  He frowned down at her uniform and then inspected the new stitches in her head, his fingers were very gentle and when he brushed some hair behind her ear her heart flipped.  “Are you cleared to play?” he asked.

“Yeah, the first hit only gave me a grade II concussion and it’s been more than two weeks.  So technically I’m clear but you know what coach always says…”

“Title IX gets you on the team Stilinski, but not sucking is what gets you on the field,” recited Jackson in a fair imitation with a little smile.

Stiles smiled back at him, “I didn’t know you paid attention to the coach chewing me out.”

“It’s fun to watch you give it right back to him,” Jackson smiled again a little brighter but then it dropped away and he want back to tracing around her stitches.  “It’s the last game of the season and the championship and if we get a really big lead, or if we’re losing by a mile, he might let you play, he might even let Greenberg play.  And if he does, especially at the end of the game, if he does just make sure you stay away from me.”

“Why?  Did Gerard tell you to do something?  Can you remember what it was?  You can fight this stuff Jackson, I know you can.  I mean Scott and Isaac can both resist the full moon already so I’m sure you can fight this.  You’re just as pig headed as anyone else on this team.”

“Maybe not as pig headed as you are Stiles,” said Jackson.  “I don’t know for sure, it’s mostly a feeling I guess and I’ll try to resist but promise me you’ll stay away.”

Stiles looked away, his heart wasn’t speeding up and she didn’t think he was lying, it would be a stupid thing to lie about anyway.  But she didn’t want to promise him anything, she couldn’t really see herself not running straight for the danger. 

He must have seen her indecision because he spoke again, “please Stiles.”

She nodded.  He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and squeezed to say thanks and that was how they walked out of the locker room.  “Well, well, well,” said Principal Argent as they passed him by, “it looks like there’s a pack whore.”

When Jackson growled at him it sounded like a wolf but he took his arm away before they reached the field.  The field was crazy, the big lights were on and the stands were full.  Stiles couldn’t hold back the big happy grin, Jackson had one too and so did Scott.  When she found her dad in the stands with Mrs. McCall they were grinning too, and waving like dorks which was pretty sweet so Stiles waved back.

Jackson jogged a little to put more distance between them and Stiles caught up with him at the bench.  “Well that was fun,” she remarked, “hello bench, ready for a big night together?”

Scott sat next to her for a little while, he was benched too ostensibly because of his grades.  But he was too good for the coach to keep him out when he actually needed his mad skills to win the game, or keep it close, which it wasn’t really.

There seemed to be a lot of drama going on with Scott and Isaac and Principal Argent, Stiles could hear them whispering threats to each other and there was some chasing of each other into the locker room and such, but Jackson was on the field so Stiles decided to just keep her eyes on him.  Gerard didn’t seem like such a huge threat without his pet lizard.

Stiles was so caught up in actually paying attention to the game, and it was like a whole different game when she used her sentinel senses to follow it, that she was startled when the coach tapped her on the shoulder.  “Head in Stilinski, you’re the next sub.”

“What?” she asked because this had never happened before.

“Look, it isn’t just that the school lawyers are here tonight, or your esteemed father representing the local law enforcement, but also, it’s you or Greenberg and you suck slightly less than he does sister, so head out there.”

“Good enough coach, that’s good enough!” Stiles tried not squeal as she headed out to the field.

She wasn’t out there too long when she felt her sentinel senses ramping up, but not like one sense soaring out of control –it felt like all of them were quietly switching to optimum.  She had read an article about Roger Federer and how there was something about him that made his reaction time better and so it was like time slowed down for him and gave him an unholy advantage in tennis.

Maybe he was a sentinel too, who knew, but this- this was awesome.  The ball was moving slower but she could see it sharper, she could project the trajectory better, the other players were telegraphing their intentions, she could even here them talking to each other better than ever.  Was this how the werewolves felt all the time but with super strength?  Cuz this was awesome and she could totally run this game.

And she did totally rule, her shots didn’t have the insane power of the werewolf shots but she had been practicing just as hard as the rest of the team for months so there was adequate power, plus she was finessing here boys.  She watched another guy on the other team telegraph which way he was going to throw the ball and stole it again to run and pass it to Jackson for another goal.

Jackson swooped her up and spun her around, this was so fun.  She looked around for Scott or Isaac to share the love but they were both gone.  Danny gave her a pretty cool thumbs-up though and her dad was going ape shit in the stands.

Coach Finstock was going crazy too and they were still playing.  There was enough time for Beacon Hills to come back.  Jackson passed to her this time and she scored, another spin with her arms wrapped around his neck, another shout from Danny, and they were playing again. 

Time was playing tricks on her, she couldn’t look at the clock on the scoreboard without feeling dizzy and nauseous.  So she stopped looking at it and just played.  Sometime she wondered where Scott was or if Derek had been able to take time away from Erica and Boyd to stop by, but her dad was here and the rest of the team was here so she just kept playing.

And then they were ahead in the score and the crowds were screaming louder than ever but above that she could hear Scott yelling for her.  Principal Argent was saying something too, and the crowd –the crowd was just screaming their heads off, because the scoreboard that she couldn’t look at was counting down the seconds now.  It was the end of the game, the end of the game.  Wasn’t there something about the end of the game?  She looked over to Jackson expecting to see one of his rare but completely awesome huge smiles but he wasn’t smiling at all, he was staring at the ground and looking like he was about to hurl or something.

Stiles started running towards him, to see if he was okay, and as she ran she remembered his warning from the locker room –she remembered him asking her to stay away.  She stumbled and he turned to look right at her, his face was wrecked –unsure and frightened like Jackson Whittemore should never be.  And then the lights went out.

There was screaming but she could hear past the screaming, there was a soft moan and a breath hitching.  And she smelled blood, blood like she had never smelled it before so warm and soft and powerful that she could feel it coating her hands and dripping down her wrists.

She caught his shoulders as he sagged and fell back, she cradled his head on her lap, “oh my brave brave boy,” she whispered.  “It’s going to be okay, we’ll get Lydia to come over.  And Danny, Danny should be here, I’ll get Danny to come too.”

But she wasn’t really moving, she was just holding his hand tight and watching as he bled out on the lacrosse field.  “Jesus Christ we should burn this god damn field,” she whispered to him as she dared to touch his perfect face.

“Maybe we should,” said Principal Argent as he slipped his hand in front of her face and waited a moment for her to go limp.  And then he dragged her off and away, Jackson’s hand twitched as he tried to keep their hands linked together but he couldn’t hold her.


	8. Master Plan

Stiles woke up feeling more nauseous and wretched than she thought was humanly possible.  “What was that shit?” she slurred.

“Chloroform,” she heard Principal Argent’s voice as if it was down a tunnel from her, “the classics are classic for a reason.  Dropped you like a sack missy.”

Every inch of her was sore, the bastard probably put her in his trunk, but now, she tried to open her eyes, now she was in a basement she guessed.  The cement floor beneath her cheek was smooth and cool, it was a nice floor.  She decided to keep her eyes closed and see what else she could figure out.

She could hear a low buzzing that sounded like when they were wiring lamps wrong in shop class, she could hear creaking like other people were tied up in ropes or with leather nearby.  She tried to sniff out her surroundings too but that was harder, it felt like the chloroform had messed up her nose, like that overwhelming sweetness was still there, she swallowed down the bile that was rising and tried not to think about smelling anymore.

She laid there and thought about nothing for a while, just letting the cool seep into her cheek and slowly becoming aware that she was still in her lacrosse uniform, the shoulder pad was digging into her collar bone but she couldn’t find the strength to move.  Maybe I can fall asleep again and then when I wake up Scott and Derek will have found me and saved me.  That’s a good plan she decided.

These assaults upon my person really need to end, she thought as she tried to unstick her lips from her teeth.  She didn’t taste blood at least, it was probably just that chloroform shit gluing her mouth together.  With her eyes closed she could picture her water bottle, it was on the sideline under the bench where she had been sitting.  The last time she saw it there was still ice in it and everything, that water would be so sweet now.

“Come on now, you can’t just lay there moping and feeling sorry for yourself.  I’m not going to hurt you,” his voice was still reverberating in strange ways, “not anymore than I have already.”  He rubbed the toe of his shoe against her side, “I’m not going to kick you while you’re down like my daughter-in-law did.”

Stiles cringed away from the contact and couldn’t hold back a whine, the creaking became more ominous.

“Scott has been a bad boy you know, he wouldn’t cooperate with my request.  Jackson didn’t cooperate either, so I had to show them.  I showed them how easy it is to snatch you Stiles, how easy it would be to hurt you, and when I let you go –I have enough guests already, the house is full, when I let you go back to them they’ll be so frightened about what I might do the next time I get my hands on you that I think there will be some excellent cooperation.  I think Scott will roll right over and show me his belly, don’t you?”

Stiles heard his words, she tried to hold them in her head because it was knowledge and knowledge was power, but he said, ‘when I let you go’, and her brain froze on that part and grabbed it, and held it close repeating it. 

She must have repeated it out loud because Principal Argent crooned in his spookiest geezer voice, “Yes, Stiles, as soon as you can drag yourself out the front door you can drag yourself home.  Nobody will stop you.”  He touched her then, she felt his thumb dig in to the bruise on her forehead, she felt his fingertip trace around the moles on her face and down to her neck.  She shuddered and squeezed her eyes tighter closed, curled into a tighter ball, he laughed at her then and when she heard him stand over her again she expected the kick to her ribs, but it never came.

Instead she heard him walk away and climb a set of wooden stairs, when the door at the top of the stairs opened she could feel the atmosphere change but she didn’t hear any other voices.  The door closed but there was no click of a lock and she slumped to the nice cement floor again.

I need to get up she told herself.  I really need to get up, but she was so out of it she couldn’t move at all anymore.  Just one minute to gather myself, that’s all she promised.

It was actually closer to twenty minutes later but Stiles didn’t know that.  She jolted awake, then moaned and rolled over to her hands and knees to see if she could lift her head and look around.  Her vision was back and as she tried to peer around in the dark it easily slipped to optimum, far back in the gloom she saw Boyd and Erica tied up and writhing silently. 

She started crawling towards them and as she got closer she noticed the buzzing got louder, slowly her brain was getting into gear and she realized they were being electrocuted, the constant irritation of the current was preventing them from changing.  The system looked like it had been ripped out of some kind of factory, there was a lock out-tag out system that meant she needed a key to turn off the juice, she checked to see if she could unplug the fucking thing but no, it was hardwired.  She looked around for a breaker box because it would be hilarious to see a breaker labeled ‘basement/torture’ but there were other rooms down here and it would take too long to drag herself around looking for it.

‘It’s a lock Stiles, you can do locks girlfriend,’ she gave herself a pep talk and looked around again for a spare bit of wire.  There wasn’t anything nearby so she pulled a stud earring out and tried attacking the lock with it.  The earring was just barely long enough but she managed.  I should try to find studs with longer posts she decided as she got the last tumbler to fall in line.  She turned the power down slowly, worried that if she did it all at once the lights upstairs might reflect the change.

Boyd and Erica sagged where they were.  “Will you guys be able to escape?” Stiles asked from where she was still leaning on the controller.

They looked at each other and nodded.  “I think,” Stiles mumbled trusting that they would be able to hear her, “I think I should leave first in case they follow me.  You guys need to get to Derek, he can help you heal.  But we don’t want them to follow you to the lair, so I’ll go first.  Watch me go, here I go.”

Stiles pulled herself up and started lurching towards the stairs.  The stairs weren’t too bad because the railing helped.  The hallway wasn’t bad either because the wall was right there but as she stumbled out the front door she realized she was really far from home and the walk was going to suck.

It felt like evening still, she could hear the blur of tv shows coming from the houses along the street.  She tried to figure out if she knew anyone in those houses, a classmate who could maybe give her a ride home without freaking out too much.  She scrubbed her hands through her hair and tried to rouse herself enough to judge if she was presentableish or not.  Her hands were clean, which was odd because she remembered all at once Jackson’s blood.

Stiles dropped to her knees then and start throwing up in the Argent’s flowers.  How could she have forgotten Jackson?  He practically died in her arms.  She threw up again even though it was just bile and that disgusting sweetness.  Her head was clearing up a little though, maybe she should have given in and thrown up down in the basement.  That would have been badass of her to leave a nice big puddle of vomit for them to slip in and to stink up the whole house. 

“Isn’t it tragic how we always think of these things too late?” said a voice behind her.

Stiles twisted around and looked back to see Peter Hale leaning against a car watching her.  He uncrossed his arms and walked up to her, hoisting her with one hand on her arm and then gently led her to the car.

He buckled her in just like Derek was always doing when he was carting her wounded ass around town and then slid behind the wheel.  “We should wait, Boyd and Erica are in the basement too.”

“I’m sure those naughty little puppies can find their own way home,” Peter assured her as he pulled away from the house.

“Oh my god, are you kidnapping me too -again?” moaned Stiles, her hands were clamped around her stomach and she wasn’t sure if she cared or not.

“Not tonight princess, I’m just giving you a ride home.  And maybe a little fairy tale for the ride, can you stay awake for that?” he asked in a fake caring voice.

Stiles nodded even though she couldn’t.  Peter looked annoyed, “Stiles, I’m going to tell you how to cure the kanima.”

“It’s too late, Jackson’s dead,” she replied.

“No, he isn’t.  Not yet,” Peter assured her.

Stiles sat up a little straighter and looked at him, she realized that Peter would know best about when things were really dead or not.    Stiles listened to his fairy tale of true love and true names and wondered where Lydia was.

 

Her dad was home when Peter dropped her off which was disconcerting but then she remembered that she had been kidnapped and it was standard procedure to have a parent stay at the house in case the kidnapper called.  Oh her poor dad, this was all so incredibly unfair to him.  She was going to lie to him again, this sucked big balls.

Peter quirked an eyebrow in Halespeak for should I walk you to the door?  “You might as well, my dad probably already got your license plate number,” Stiles decided.

He turned off the engine and walked around to help her out.  Stiles realized that if she let him carry her to her bed her dad would probably just drag her back out to the emergency room so she wrapped her fingers around his wrist and struggled to walk as normally as she could.  Peter must have realized what it was costing her because he shifted so that he was holding her wrist and then he started drawing off the aches and pains and nausea. 

“Couldn’t have done that ten minutes ago?” complained Stiles softly.

“I’m not used to being around humans,” said Peter with a shrug.

Her dad threw the door open and swept her up into a huge hug.  They were both crying before he could stand to put her down again and check to make sure she was okay, mostly.

“I’m fine dad.  It was some jerks from the other team, they must have been peeved about a girl beating them.  They put me in the trunk of their car and then left me in the woods.  Mr. Hale found me walking beside the road and gave me a ride home.”

Peter smiled as innocently as he could, he was impressed with how little her heart rate changed.  Stiles was a very practiced liar and he should keep that in mind.  As much as the sheriff wanted to take care of Stiles he still had enough of his cop mind to demand Peter’s contact information before he let him leave the porch.

Peter couldn’t help but be charmed, the Stilinski’s were a formidable pack.

The sheriff led Stiles to the kitchen table and parked her there while he helped her strip out of her gear and got her some juice and a little bowl of cereal.  He washed her face carefully between bites and when he ran out of things to fuss over he dropped into the chair across from her in defeat.

“Stiles honey, the reason I was so freaked out about you disappearing is because Jackson Whittemore was attacked at the end of the game.  I’m so sorry but he was killed honey.”

Tears started streaming down Stiles face even though Peter had said he wasn’t really dead, she didn’t trust Peter that much.  “I know, I saw him before I was taken.”

She pushed her bowl around, “I mean, I guess I didn’t really know for sure, but I saw how badly he was injured, I was with him.”

“Oh Stiles, I’m so sorry,”  he came around the table and patted her shoulder while she cried a little harder.  When she was done he helped her upstairs to the bathroom so she could take a shower.

The shower was wonderful and by the time she was done she felt alive and awake again.  It was only 10:00 she discovered as she debated whether to put pants on again or not.  She decided on pants and a bra since her dad might decide to drag her down to the station later if she seemed steady enough.

There was a knock on her door as she pulled on a shabby (my people call it comfortable) t-shirt and when she opened it Lydia Martin was standing there.

“Hey,” said Lydia awkwardly.  “I was, we all were, worried about you and I had to check for myself I guess, that you’re really okay.”

Stiles stepped back and waved her in, “come on in,” she mumbled, and then louder she said, “yeah, I’m okay.”

Lydia just kind of stood there, like she was unsure if anything in the room could hold her, or maybe she was afraid active wear was contagious.

Stiles flopped down on her bed, harder than she meant to, and gave a little grunt as her back protested.  “I saw Peter Hale tonight and he said that Jackson isn’t dead.”

“Peter Hale is the, the one who bit me?” asked Lydia in a small voice and Stiles instantly felt bad for not making flash cards and keeping everyone updated on everything.

“Yeah, he’s the one that we killed the night he attacked you and then last week he was resurrected so I figure he knows about these things.”

“And Jackson would be not dead because he’s a giant lizard creature that can’t be killed?”

Stiles made a humming noise, “We should say he’s exceedingly durable instead of immortal.  It’s probably an important difference.  I think they need to be cut in half, that’s what Peter did to Laura anyway.”

“Laura?” asked Lydia.

Stiles just waved her hands to signify it was unimportant.  She turned on her side so she could see Lydia standing there in Stiles bedroom.  Stiles was a little surprised that Lydia knew where she lived, although maybe when they were really little, before her mom died when she was slightly more normal, maybe back then Lydia had been over for a birthday party or something.  And here she was now, clearly uncomfortable and unhappy about being in Stiles’ room but here anyway so she could learn more about Jackson.  So she could be with probably one of the last people to see Jackson alive that night.

“Do you really love Jackson?” she asked.  Lydia and Jackson kept the whole school enraptured with their on again off again relationship.  Some people thought that they kept going back to each other because no one else in the school was as rich or as attractive as they were, Stiles needed to know if that was true or not.

Lydia grabbed a necklace that was hidden under her blouse, “I really do love Jackson,” she replied.

“That’s good,” said Stiles, “that means we can save him.”  She rolled off of her bed and looked longingly at her boots, it would take her a while to pull those bad boys on and lace them up, plus she was pretty sure that Lydia wouldn’t let her leave the house wearing sweat pants and twenty-hole Doc Martens.  Instead she jammed on a pair of Converse and grabbed her leather jacket.

She led Lydia back down the stairs and walked straight to her dad’s office where she knew he would be on the phone with the station.  She knocked on the door and opened her mouth to lie again.  “Daddy,” she started, “Lydia asked if I could sleep over her house tonight.  Neither of us really wants to be alone and I thought that maybe if I’m out anyway then you can head in to the station for a little while and make sure they’re, you know.  Doing things right.”

Her dad got an embarrassed look on his face, like he was the evil one for wanting to find out why kids were being attacked on the lacrosse field and Stiles was the good person for making it easy for him.  The guilt was so huge she staggered a little against the door frame and Lydia put her hand on her shoulder.

The sheriff mumbled something in the phone and hung up so he could come over and talk to them.  He hugged Stiles a few more times and Lydia once for good measure and walked them to the Jeep.  Stiles made a happy noise when she discovered her bag and her phone in the back seat, she had thirty missed calls and three voice messages.

Lydia took the phone as Stiles started driving, “Five calls from Daddy Po-Po –is that the sheriff or your pimp?  Seventeen missed calls from Scott, and eight from the Guide Dog.  Why do you have a guide dog Stiles and how does he dial the phone?  Or maybe that’s your parole officer?”

“It’s really not that long a drive Lydia, we’re going to have to set up a lunch date for later.” 

As she got closer to the train station Stiles started listening as hard as she could, she put the car in first and practically just rolled it up to the bay door.  Lydia looked at her with her perfect strawberry lips open, did she put on fresh lip gloss on the way here? Stiles wondered, and then held a finger to her own lips to shush her.

Lydia’s heart was pounding and Stiles tried to push it to the back of her hearing before she got distracted by wondering if it was fear or anger, or both.  Focusing, focusing, focusing, Stiles wondered for a second if she should ask Lydia to shake her if she took too long but then realized Lydia would know to do that all by her impatient self.  Stiles listened and heard Gerard Argent, heard Scott, heard Derek, heard that sliding noise she knew so well as the kanima (he isn’t dead!) and two or three more people that weren’t talking. 

She listened to the voices rise and realized they were probably being threatened by the kanima or something and she needed to get in there with Lydia before any of her friends got hurt.  “Hold on tight,” she ordered Lydia and smiled because she always wanted to say that, and then she smashed her darling Jeep through the door and into the middle of the fight.

It was an awesome distraction and she totally should have gotten some sort of gratitude from the participants but instead they all just sort of growled at her for throwing herself in the middle of the fight again.  She resisted the urge to flip them all off because at least Argent looked properly pissed.

And then she noticed that Lydia was screaming and climbing out of the truck, oh, she had driven over Jackson a little bit there.  Well, that was awkward but he’d survived worse today.  She staggered out of the Jeep too and started walking around to where Lydia was confronting the kanima but Scott grabbed her and pulled her back.  He wrapped his long arms around her and kept her pinned to his chest with a low rumble.  Isaac slid into position next to them, not moving either.

Lydia was talking to the kanima and it was shifting back into Jackson, they really do love each other thought Stiles with a pang.  It had been fun flirting with Jackson but she should have realized that the easy camaraderie was a sign that they had both given their hearts away to others.

Jackson was stepping back from Lydia now, staggering under the admission of his true love corrected her inner romance novelist.  And that was when Peter and Derek both swooped in and shish-ke-bobbed him.  As Jackson collapsed again to the ground in front of her Stiles would have followed him down.  She felt like there was no air left in the world and whatever invisible strings had carried her from Gerard’s basement to this spot, they were done now.  Stiles was done.  She was done and done and done.  Peter had said he could be cured, true love and true names and all that shit and she had brought Lydia here like he told her to and she had already fucking watched him die once today.

It was good that Scott was a werewolf, his strings were strong enough to hold them both up.  He held Stiles up and she buried her face in his neck because she didn’t want to see any more, this day was done, this day needed to be over.  And then Isaac was interrupting them, “look,” he whispered.

Stiles watched as the magical blue fairy glow thing swallowed up Jackson and made him a real boy again, or not a real boy, a real werewolf.  He had magical blue eyes too like Derek’s used to be.  That was interesting thought Stiles as she watched a naked twice-resurrected Jackson make out with Lydia.

I guess we’re back to whatever constitutes normal now she decided.  Looking around a little more at the carnage she noticed Allison was standing awkwardly nearby.  Stiles gave her a weak smile and pushed at Scott to let her go, he tightened his arms instead but then with a sigh he released her.

Stiles wobbled a little and suddenly there was a wall of Derek for her to lean against.  “Good job Stiles,” she heard Peter say, “but you look dead on your feet, what did Gerard give you when he kidnapped you?”

“Bastard,” hissed Stiles as bedlam erupted around her.

She refused to go back home because she had told her father she was sleeping over Lydia’s, she refused to go see Dr. Deaton too because if she woke up from the chloroform then it was done and there was nothing else it could do to her.  A very pissed off looking Derek herded her into the back of Peter’s car and then climbed in after her. 

Stiles leaned against the cool glass window and decided that even if there was nowhere comfortable to sleep at the train station she could always come back and sleep in the car like this.  It was pretty cozy, or she was a lot more tired than she thought.  When the car finally slid to a stop she sort of noticed and she was sort of outraged about being carried around like a toddler again, but hey if all her friends had super strength and could carry her around like this all the time why not let them?  She was sure it made them feel better, all boys got off on being alpha male once in a while.  Ha ha, alpha male –more like alpha Hale.

“That was out loud Stiles,” said Derek into her ear.

“I can’t hear you I’m asleep and dreaming and not responsible for whatever garbage spills out of my mouth.”  Stiles wasn’t sure if she managed the whole sentence or not but she thought it very loudly and figured it was probably close enough.

She noticed they were moving up, like in an elevator and opened one eye to look around, the train station didn’t have functioning elevators.  “We aren’t at the train station Stiles, I came back from the dead to save you all from that disaster area,” replied Peter.

Out loud again thought Stiles and hoped that it came out silently.  It probably didn’t because Derek was rubbing her back now and trying to make her more asleep. 

She opened her eyes again when he slid her down onto a countertop, holding her up with one arm still wrapped around her chest.  She heard a faucet run and then a huge glass of water was in her face.  “Drink this,” rumbled Derek tilting it up to her face.

“Drink or drown, Jesus Derek,” coughed Stiles when she finally managed to shove it away.  He gave her an unimpressed look and tilted it up again.  It felt like it took a hundred years but finally the glass was empty and Derek scooped her up again.

The water helped a lot because she was awake enough to look around the lofty not an abandoned factory but close space as she was toted off to a bedroom.  The bedroom was very interesting because she was sure it was Derek’s, it smelled like him, and she wanted to see what it looked like.  But also it was a bedroom and there was a bed in it and Stiles, if she wasn’t so self conscious about acting a little bit her age, would have made grabby hands for it. 

“Almost there tiger,” said Derek so maybe she had done something.  He settled her on the edge and pulled off her sneakers, “I’m so glad you wore these tonight, I don’t think you would want to sit there while I tried to get those stupid boots off.”

“Do not diss the boots, the boots are awesome and you know it,” said Stiles but she trailed off at the end because Derek had pulled her socks off too and was rubbing her feet, flexing them back and forth and it felt awesome.  So awesome she even forgot to be uptight about however sweaty they might be.

Next he pulled off her leather jacket, he gave it a deep sniff and then draped it over the back of a chair.  A chair she noticed his jacket was already on so now their jackets could get it on together on the chair.  She quickly looked up at Derek but now he was sliding his hand up the back of her shirt and unhooking her bra, he slid the straps down her shoulders and then pushed and pulled her arm to get it off one side before sliding it all the way off the other.  With no flashing, does he practice that she wondered and bit her lip so she wouldn’t say it.

This is a good strategy she thought, biting harder while he rubbed her shoulders and she worried she might melt or explode.  The hands paused and Stiles realized her eyes were closed when she was surprised to feel Derek’s hand on her lips, he was gently pulling her bottom one out of the mouth and rubbing the pad of his thumb across it where it was all red.  He leaned in and kissed just that spot while Stiles’ heart tried to escape from her chest.

“Come on, stretch out,” he whispered urging her to climb all the way onto the bed and tucking her under the covers.  The blankets were heavy and perfect so she wriggled around and pulled off her sweat pants, tossing them on the floor as she flopped around and got even more comfortable.

She put her head on the pillow and then looked up at him with her most pathetic expression.  “Can you stay and talk for a while?  So much has happened that I feel like I need a review session.”

Derek nodded and pulled off his boots so he could lay down next to her, Stiles immediately snuggled up to his chest.  “First the good news on the sentinel front, I was amazing during the lacrosse game.  Jackson and I scored like six goals together in the final quarter and won the championship.  Of course he gutted himself right after and I was holding him in my arms while he bled out when Argent shoved chloroform in my face and kidnapped me, so we didn’t get to see the trophy yet or anything.  I wonder if they gave Jackson the MVP like posthumously?”

“How did the sentinel senses work during the game?” asked Derek like the good guide he was.

“It was like time slowed down and all the other players were projecting what they were going to do next, I could see their faces through the face shields and I could see their eyes and it was so obvious who they were looking at and the way their shoulders were set I could tell how they were going to pass and then I’d just steal it and get it to Jackson, or if I was close enough to the goal I could read which way their goalie was going to react and shoot it around him.”

Derek made a happy humming noise, “I’m glad it finally started working for you.  Of course my parents used to give me grief for using super powers during sports, with great power comes great responsibility Stiles.”

“I think I always wanted someone to give me that speech, I always wanted to be special” preened Stiles.

“But not a werewolf?” asked Derek and he tried not to sound bitter.

Stiles looked at him, “you mean when Peter offered?  Seriously?  He was out of his mind crazy that night and you think I would let him make me his bitch like that?  You don’t know me very well.”  She tried to flounce away but Derek was on top of the blankets and pinning her in place, also it was comfortable.

“I guess when you put it like that, yeah, probably not.” Derek chuckled.  “You wouldn’t have been his bitch though; the alpha doesn’t have that kind of power.”

“Are you sure?” asked Stiles who had spent a lot of Google time trying to confirm or deny it.

“I am, if someone is truly your alpha they sense your emotions and they wouldn’t be able to command it.  If they don’t care about that feedback then they aren’t really your alpha and you won’t have to follow them, you could fight.”

“I guess, but it seems risky to test.”

“It would be insane to test it; I can see why you said no to him.  What happened after Argent took you?”

“Oh, um, I woke up in the basement of Allison’s house.  He told me that he just took me to scare Scott and I could leave whenever I wanted.  Boyd and Erica were down there too, they were tied up and he was electrocuting them so they couldn’t change.  I was able to turn off the power and they nodded that they could escape on their own after that so I just left them there.  I know I should have untied them or done more but I was afraid that Argent would come back and be angry with me. 

I think mostly I was still half asleep from the chloroform; I didn’t really start to feel awake until I was throwing up outside their house.  And that’s when Peter found me and drove me home.  I took a shower and changed and Lydia came by and then we went to save Jackson, big day.

Did Boyd and Erica show up or call you or anything?”

“No, not yet.  I hope they just went home to rest.” said Derek.

“Don’t you think we should go check on them?” asked Stiles wriggling under the blanket again, trying to get up.

“No, they left.  They left the pack, I can’t go track them down.”

“Why not?”

“They’re not my pack anymore.”

“You said pack was like family though, if I have a fight and slam the door on my dad he’s still my dad.  Family doesn’t just end like that.”

“Then I guess I was wrong about saying pack was like family Stiles.  Look, if they come back I’ll take them in again but I can’t go looking for them tonight.”

“Why not?” asked Stiles again.

“Because,” said Derek and he looked incredibly constipated as he continued, “because you’re here now and you’re hurt and I can’t leave you to go look for them.  That’s why.”

“Oh, do you want me to go home?” asked Stiles who was totally confused.

“No Stiles, I would just follow you there.  Look, I had a big day too –not as bad as yours or anything, but I just want to stay with you and make sure you’re really okay.”

“Because I’m in your pack?” asked Stiles.

“Because I care, because you asked for my help.”

“Can we go find them in the morning?”

“Sure, after breakfast.   Weren’t you tired before?  Didn’t I have to carry you from the car?” asked Derek rolling on to his side so he could rub her arm.

“Maybe,” said Stiles but he wasn’t just rubbing her arm, he was drawing away the aches from the lacrosse game, from Gerard throwing her around, where she had skinned her palm when she was hurling in Allison’s flower bed, even the sore spot on her shoulder that the seat belt had made when she rammed her car into the warehouse and the kanima.

“Odinsleep time Stiles,” murmured Derek his voice soft and warm in her ear.

“It isn’t fair that you have an off button for me,” whined Stiles, her voice soft and slurred.

“I think it’s important for both of us Stiles that you have an off button,” said Derek and Stiles didn’t understand.

 

In the morning she felt great for about five minutes and then she remembered the world of lies she was going to have to give her father.  Which sucked.  She pulled her pants back on and carried her bra to the bathroom.

The kitchen was easy to find because it smelled like bacon and pancakes and sausages.  She climbed up on a stool by the counter and smiled at Derek who was stirring and flipping things.  “Bacon and sausages?” she asked.

Derek smiled with glowing red eyes and full teeth, “we’re werewolves Stiles, deal with it.”

“Nice,” she replied, “as a creature of the night shouldn’t you not be a morning person?”

“It’s not morning,” he replied, “it’s almost noon.”  He flipped her phone over to her, “Luckily you’ve been texting Daddy Po-Po and he knows you’ll be home by one.”

Stiles snatched up her precious phone to review her messages and make sure Derek hadn’t looked at her contact list.  He had, he had changed his listing to Alpha Guide Dog Sir.  While she was busy inspecting the damage Derek was piling up two plates and sliding one in front of her.

She put her phone down as he slid onto the stool next to her.  “Alright there Stiles?” he asked.

“Yes Alpha Guide Dog Sir, yes sir,” she replied and started inhaling pancakes.

She was unclear on who had been in charge of logistics last night but her Jeep was apparently relatively undamaged and parked outside the loft.  The keys were tucked in the visor but whatever, it wasn’t that great a Jeep.

Jackson had decided to go with the ‘it was a prank’ story which was completely unbelievable because apparently Melissa McCall a trained nurse had been on site and helped declare him dead.  Except Jackson wasn’t dead and he wasn’t even injured so, there was that going for his story.

His parents were livid and told him this would be his last year at Beacon Hills High, apparently there were more suitable institutions of learning for their precious boy.  When Stiles tried to talk to Lydia about the idiocy of the whole ‘it’s a prank’ thing she was weirdly rude.  “Listen Stiles,” she said, “they’re going to believe whatever they have to believe so they can sleep at night.  The kindest thing we can do is to be as vague as possible.”

And Stiles could see that, she totally could and it was a legitimate answer for most people, unfortunately she didn’t live with most people, she lived with the Sheriff and vague just wasn’t an option with him.  “Vague isn’t an option with my dad,” she told Lydia.

“I guess you’re right Stiles, but I don’t know what else to say.  Good luck I guess.”

“Yeah thanks,” muttered Stiles and she hung up so she could try to spend the rest of her drive coming up with details or something.  Maybe he wouldn’t be home.

The sheriff was home, he was waiting in his study and Stiles walked in like it was to her own execution.  She had decided on as much truthiness as she could manage and maintaining her own storyline was her top priority, she could throw Jackson under the bus to stay in her dad’s good graces.

“So hey, Jackson’s alive, isn’t that great?” was her opening line and it went downhill pretty quickly from there.  In the end she probably said, “I don’t know, call Peter Hale, I really was carted off to nowhere and left there to walk home,” a million times but eventually the sheriff believed her.  To her shame.

It seemed like nothing else happened that day, just endless questioning and then she was in bed again; she hadn’t even bothered to shower or change out of her t-shirt before she collapsed in her bed again.  This was embarrassing when Derek swept through her window that night.

“Oh god, really, you’re back?  I haven’t even showered,” mumbled Stiles instead of ‘hello Alpha Guide Dog Sir, how may I serve you tonight?’ so all in all she was kind of proud of herself.

“Calm yourself, I’m just checking in; you were kind of freaking out before about talking to ‘Daddy Po-Po,” replied Derek.  And really Stiles had no response at all to that.

She grinned like she hadn’t grinned in forever.  “Sorry,” she finally came up with, “you’re right, I was freaking and it was actually that bad but it seems to be over now so I guess I’m alright.”

“Would you like me to listen while you process?” asked Derek with a condescending smirk.

“Yeah, sure whatever.  But I hafta shower so wait here, I’ll be back soon,” said Stiles, asking Derek to wait until she returned in a towel.

Dererk didn’t wait but he did come back about forty five minutes later, by his calculations that should have been plenty of time for one of her ridiculously long showers and time to put on underwear and an oversize thin t-shirt and hopefully hide herself under all of the blankets and covers on bed.  He would then pull a chair over near her and listen to her babble about how shitty lying to her only family was, he did feel really bad about that, and then he would take off again.

It was a good plan, but when he looked in through her window she was still wearing her towel and nothing else and she was completely engrossed in some game on her computer.  He would have turned around and left again except he could see the goose bumps on her arms and he had no idea how long she would stay up like that if left on her own.  He tapped obnoxiously on her window pane but she had headphones on and apparently didn’t hear him.

Derek cursed for a while, he could just go in and make her jump twenty feet when she finally realized he was there; he could imagine exactly how her heart would spike, how the towel would slip lower, how the gap at the bottom would fan over her thigh; or maybe he could do something to make her father notice her.  He was home, down in the tv room Derek guessed, and maybe it would give them something normal to fight about, something to remind them that they’re a family.

He stood there lurking and thinking so long that he ended up asking himself what would Edward Cullen do and then he did the opposite.  He rang the doorbell and disappeared, the sheriff went upstairs to see if Stiles was expecting anyone then blew his top when he saw she had blue lips and soon enough he was tucking her in and kissing her forehead and offering to bring her a hot chocolate.

After she refused the hot chocolate her dad left again and Derek waited five minutes before creeping in.  He slid down on the bed next to her and started telling her about his sister Laura, he couldn’t help it.  Laura had been so important to him for so long and here he had gone months without talking to her or about her, it was like a damn had broken finally.

“I’m so sorry you never got to meet Laura,” he started, “I still have her things and she had this Team Jacob t-shirt that I think you would like.  I mean, not that you’re going out with any of us but, it seems like something that would amuse you.”

“Of course it would, that’s totally awesome,” said Stiles in a strange soft voice as she pulled Derek’s head down and wriggled an arm around his shoulders.  “Can you tell me more about her?” she whispered.  And he did, he talked almost all night long.

 

Scott called the next day, he called the house phone and Stiles was surprised he still knew that number.  “As if,” he dismissed her before asking for the Sheriff.  Stiles refused to pass the phone over but eventually the sheriff pulled it out of her hands and spoke to Scott while Stiles moaned about ‘man-to-man’ talks and sexism.

“He wants to make a statement about the lacrosse final Stiles.  Calm down,” ordered the sheriff who was honestly considering calling Ms. Morrell at home and seeing if he could bribe her into a weekend session.  “I told him he could talk to me here instead of the station, considering…” and he trailed off instead of reminding himself and Stiles about what had happened at the station.  “We’re going to be in my office and the door is going to be locked and you are going to be minding your own business.”

Stiles gave him an innocent face, she could totally hear through that door.

She assumed that Scott knew she would be listening in, she had to so she could corroborate whatever he said so then why wasn’t he running it by her first?  Normally they would have worked on the story together, refining it, perfecting it; if he hadn’t talked to Stiles about it then it could be unrefined and imperfect.  Maybe he had talked to Allison about it?  Stiles wasn’t sure how she felt about Scott working on his lies with another woman, like it was kind of a betrayal or something.

But then she started eavesdropping and she understood.  She was in her dad’s room laying on the carpeting with her ear pressed to the floor, it was a lot more comfortable than lurking outside the door would be and she expected him to check the hall at random moments –which she would totally hear coming but this way she didn’t have to scurry.

Scott told him about Matt being obsessed with Allison, how he latched onto Mrs. Argent’s idea of Scott and Stiles to drive Allison into his own arms.  He told him about how Matt had forced them to pose for sexy pictures at the sheriff’s station and how he had dragged Scott and the ‘proof’ to Allison’s house to convince her.  But, he started lying, we didn’t see Allison there, we saw Principal Argent and he ran Matt off but he kept the pictures.  In fact Principal Argent had called Scott to his office and tried to blackmail him with the pictures, he wanted Scott to stay away from Allison.

Scott said how he tried to go along for a while to protect Stiles but now he just couldn’t stand the thought of Principal Argent having those pictures of Stiles.  “She’s still technically a child isn’t she?” he asked and Stiles could picture just how big and brown his eyes were as he looked at the sheriff with that question.

There was a search warrant within two hours and just about the entire department descended upon the Argent house.  They even brought the German Shepherds to help defend Stiles’ honor.  The pictures were found in a drawer in the desk, and another set in the wall safe, and another set in Gerard’s room.  They also found guns, lots and lots of guns and cross bows and some weird as shit torture device in the basement with stains on the floor nearby which were sampled and sent to the lab.

They ended up bagging and tagging almost the whole house and the sheriff prayed that maybe, just maybe, if he could lock up or drive off this weird ass family maybe all the murders in his sweet little city would just go the hell away.  He wasn’t sure they really would but that was why he was hoping and praying.

Chris Argent, Allison’s dad got off pretty light but that was for Allison’s sake.  Her mom was already in trouble for assaulting a minor so they just added another few months to her probation.  Grandpa got locked up for possession of child pornography and the guns and being the last person to see Matt alive and for being the school principal while possessing child pornography, and for bringing the pictures to school grounds, and the sheriff tried pretty hard to charge him with being ‘creepy as fuck’ but they couldn’t really find a law against that.  The DA totally looked though because it was for Stiles.

 

Stiles kept Derek pretty well informed as everything was happening but Derek was still taciturn around everyone else and so the day that it hit the newspaper you could have knocked Peter over with a feather.  After he finished mopping up his coffee he got all the details he could out of Derek then he rushed out to buy more copies of the paper to send to some friends of his with the joyous tidings.  “It’s almost as satisfying as a hanging would have been,” he told Derek.

“Not if you’re friends with the child,” growled Derek and Peter tried to tone it down a little.

Derek was in knots over the whole thing, he knew about the pictures almost from that night.  He knew that Stiles had finally seen them a few days ago, she had asked to see them right away but the sheriff was unsure and he made her go to a session with Ms. Morrell and then talked to Ms. Morrell himself for a long time and then finally they let Stiles look at them.  They seemed to make Stiles kind of sad and Derek wondered why and what he could do to make it better.  And he burned to see them too.  It wasn’t just that they were of Stiles without a shirt on, he had seen that once and he remembered perfectly what she looked like. 

Remembering his own part of that night, the way he had played fucking possum while Matt dragged his body on top of hers, the way his jacket zipper rubbed against her skin, it haunted him.  He could only imagine the way Scott must have been on the edge of his own control with the need to protect Stiles.  He could picture it so well, the way Scott’s eyes would be closed to hide the glow, how his fingers would be curled in a little to hide the claws that wanted to pop out, how his gums must have ached with fighting back the change even as he sucked on Stiles’ lips and tongue.  Derek wondered if he could talk to Ms. Morrell too.

 

Scott came by the loft that night, Peter offered him a beer, a shot and his firstborn son.  Scott asked for a few minutes alone with Derek and Peter walked out the door without hesitation.  They both listened to his heartbeat and were faintly surprised when he really did leave their hearing.

“How old are you Derek?” asked Scott, blurting it out like he didn’t mean to ask it or like there was nothing else as important.

“Too old probably,” replied Derek without answering, he got a beer for himself and handed one to Scott since he couldn’t get drunk anyway.  He led Scott to the couch and sat down.

“It’s unusual to have a girl as your best friend when you’re a boy but Stiles was always more interesting than anyone else around.  And our friendship pulled our parents together so that sometimes, when we all sit down to a meal together, sometimes it’s almost like we make one complete family.  We even became blood brother and blood sister with a little paring knife so that we could be a family.”

Derek snorted at that image, “did you need stitches after?” he asked.

“I didn’t because Stiles did my cut but, yeah, I got nervous with hers and we had to show my mom.  She wasn’t even that surprised.”

“Who?  Your mom or Stiles?” asked Derek with a wicked smile.

“Man, neither of them.  They both know me too well; that’s why they’re the most important people in my life.”

Derek looked away from him and took a long swallow waiting for whatever Scott had come here to tell him.

“So I guess I’m here to tell you that if you break her heart I will end you.  Alpha or no alpha I’m not afraid to use every resource at my disposal, which here means the sheriff and the entire Beacon Hills Sheriff Department.  I have allies in the medical and veterinary world too you know.  We could come up with some sort of ‘cocktail’ that could make you sorry.” Scott tried for a stern and forbidding look but he couldn’t quite manage it against Derek with his leather and beard shadow.

“Scott, I meant it when I said I was too old.”

“Stiles doesn’t care about that and neither do I.  – Heads up though, the sheriff will care deeply.”

Derek felt very flustered and caged in, he got up and started pacing.  “What are you telling me to do?” he asked.

“Nothing, nothing new anyway.  Keep talking to her like you have been, take her for walks in the woods to practice with her sentinel senses.  Drive to that diner three towns away so you can have lunch together without anyone from town seeing you and calling the sheriff.”  Derek froze and tried very very hard not to blush.

“She’s falling in love with you,” observed Scott, “and if you disappear now, if you chicken out and decide you’re too old or too cynical she’s the one that will be hurt.  She will think that it’s because she’s too short and dresses wrong and has too many moles; and god only knows what she’ll decide to do after that.  I know that I don’t want to find out.”

“But she’s still in high school,” Derek felt the need to point out their age difference again.

“I know, you’re going to have to take it crazy slow man.  She’ll drive you fucking nuts, I mean most of the time she dresses like a nine year-old boy but every once in a while she’ll just show up in some total sexpot outfit to make sure you know she’s female.  It’s really effective, she did it at Lydia’s party and Jackson almost tripped over his own tongue trying to flirt with her.”

Derek growled. 

“I know, that’s what I said too pretty much.  Not that I could blame him, plus Stiles used to have a crush on him so I felt a little bad shutting him down.  But, blood brother here, that’s what I do.”

“Except now?” asked Derek.

“I trust you more than I trust Jackson, congratulations, don’t let it all go to your head.”  Derek nodded, that sort of made sense.

“Now, I don’t really want to discuss boundaries because I’m not actually her dad.  Just assume that there are boundaries no matter what she says.  And remember that I will have no mercy whatsoever if you hurt her and I’m sure we’ll be all good.”

Derek gave him a dubious look and Scott just toasted him with his beer bottle, “oh Sheriff he gave me alcohol.”  Scott actually fluttered his hand a little and batted his eyes while he said it.  Derek smiled despite his best efforts.


	9. Epilogue

Stiles arranged a pack movie night at the loft, she had created a list of landmark films in the werewolf genre and ranked them based on her perception of their accuracy.  Her plan was for them all to watch them together and then follow it up with a question and answer period on Werewolf Fact and Fiction.

In reality they all laughed through most of the movie except the scary bits where Erica and Isaac totally freaked out and then the question period was canceled because Stiles had fallen asleep on Derek’s lap on the couch and he wouldn’t let them wake her up.

He carefully maneuvered himself around so he was stretched out with her on his chest and then he pulled the afghan off the back of the couch and tucked her in as best he could reach.  He might have purred a little as his arms came up to hold her in place and Stiles might have had a secret plan behind her pack movie night plan.


End file.
